


Maybe You're Going to Be the One That Saves Me

by lovetheblazer



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: CrissColfer Big Bang, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-11 02:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1167723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovetheblazer/pseuds/lovetheblazer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darren’s the director of an elementary school choir that uses popular music to get children interested in the arts. Enter Chris, a school district administrator tasked with trimming the budget by cutting funding to all extracurricular activities. Darren begs Chris for 14 days to change his mind, and Chris soon finds that saying no to Darren and his gaggle of adorable singing children will be harder than he’d ever imagined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Other Half of Me

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [CCBB Illustration](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/35425) by Maria (colfer-my-criss). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, first a big thank you to Maria, who drew the gorgeous art for this fic, Alexei for serving as my beta, and Alyssa for pre-reading it. And this fic wouldn’t exist without Cass & Lindsey, the CrissColfer Big Bang creators and my fellow authors I spent hours word warring with ;)

“Okay guys, we've got time for one or two more songs before rehearsal is over. Request time!”

Instantly, the auditorium was filled with shouts and hands waving in the air. “Ooh ooh – me! Mr. C! Pick me!”

Darren grinned, stroking his chin as if deep in thought. “I don't know,” he drawled. “Who to choose? Brianne, what do you want to sing?” he asked after a pause, gesturing to a small, but determined girl in the front row.

“Katy Perry! Let's sing Roar!” she exclaimed. Two girls sitting next to her began chattering excitedly while the boys seated in the back all groaned.

“No fair, Mr. C, we _always_ sing girl songs!” Jay called from the other side of the room.

“Hey now, there's no such thing as girl songs or boy songs in here. Just good music, you know that, Jay,” Darren admonished gently. “But what do you want to sing?”

“Let's do Mirrors by Justin Timberlake. His new album is tight,” Jay suggested.

“Sounds like we need to take it to a vote – who wants Katy Perry?” Darren asked, smiling as just under half of the room raised their hands.

“And Justin Timberlake?” he continued, taking a quick count. “Well, Justin it is then.” He rolled his eyes fondly as the room erupted in a chorus of cheers and boos. “Okay okay, settle down or we won't have time to do the song. And hey, no pouting - we'll do Katy Perry next time, I promise.”

“Amber, will you solo for us this time?” Darren asked the shy girl sitting next to Brianne.

“Me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“No pressure, Amber, just the first few lines, okay?” Darren encouraged. He knew it was a big step to ask Amber to sing a solo without advance warning. But he couldn't help but want to push her, knowing how incredibly talented she was. So far, she'd mostly hung back during rehearsals and kept to herself rather than interacting with the other kids aside from quick greetings. It was clear that her soulful brown eyes held depths of pain, but Darren just knew that if the other kids heard her sing, they'd want to reach out and get to know her better.

It had certainly been the case for Darren. He remembered the first time he'd heard her sing at her audition like it was yesterday. Darren had been stunned speechless at the crystal clear, soulful voice that erupted from the tiny girl with the slumped shoulders who couldn't even make eye contact long enough to tell him her name. There'd been no question she belonged in his choir, and he'd made it his personal goal to get her to open up and hopefully have some fun along the way.

“Okay?” she squeaked, eyes wide.

“Awesome,” Darren smiled encouragingly. “Jay and all my back row boys, you're on percussion, okay?” Darren directed, tapping out a basic rhythm on the piano lid that the boys soon echoed on the backs of the chairs in front of him.

“Alright Amber, up here with me,” he said, gesturing for her to sit on the floor near the piano as he played the opening few notes. “Got it?” he whispered and she nodded in reply after a moment's hesitation.

“Ready, 1 – 2 – 3,” Darren directed, nodding in Amber's direction as she began to [sing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QX5jSXKuogY).

_Aren't you somethin' to admire?_   
_'Cause your shine is somethin' like a mirror_

Darren let out a relieved breath as Amber began to sing, pitch perfect as always, taking a moment to glance out at the sea of wide eyed, open mouthed fifth graders. “Wow,” Brianne murmured under her breath as Amber continued, and he knew he'd made the right decision in convincing her to take this afternoon's solo.

_And I can't help but notice_   
_You reflect in this heart of mine_

Darren pointed out at the choir, gesturing for them to come in on the next line.

If you ever feel alone, they sang in unison, letting Amber finish the line.

And the glare makes me hard to find  
Just know that I'm always parallel on the other side.

The auditorium erupted in voices and Darren began to pound eagerly on the piano keys.

_'Cause with your hand in my hand and a pocket full of soul_   
_I can tell you there's no place we couldn't go._   
_Put your hand on the glass, I'll be tryin' to pull you through_

And then out of nowhere, Amber's voice, carrying effortlessly through the room as she sang the last line, the smallest hint of a smile on her lips.

You've got to be strong

Darren felt goosebumps break out across his arms at the gorgeous, completely spontaneous melody they were creating together.

_'Cause I don't wanna lose you now_   
_Staring right at the other half of me._   
_The vacancy that sat in my heart_   
_Is a space and now you're home_   
_Show me how to fight for now_   
_And I'll tell you, baby, it was easy_   
_Comin' back here to you once I figured it out_   
_You were right here all along_

Darren stood up, hitting the chords even harder and nodding his head to the beat of his little drummers in the back of the room. The kids swayed their shoulders back and forth, acting out the lyrics with their hands. Their energy was infectious. Anytime Darren started to doubt his career path, as he did from time to time, wondering why he wasn't treading the boards on Broadway or playing dive bars with some band, he'd come back to these moments and remember: it was one thing to make his own music, but teaching kids to love music for the rest of their lives was even better.

_It's like you're my mirror_   
_My mirror staring back at me_   
_I couldn't get any bigger_   
_With anyone else beside of me_   
_And now it's clear as this promise_   
_That we're making two reflections into one_   
_'Cause it's like you're my mirror_   
_My mirror staring back at me, staring back at me_

Darren continued to lead the choir, directing them to sing the last chorus a cappella, marveling at how effortlessly he commanded the room full of students. Their trust was a gift, hard won and much appreciated. It hadn't always been easy to earn their respect, and it had been even harder to get the students to respect one another and to come together as a team. But on days like today, seeing how far the kids had come in just a few short months, Darren knew that he was exactly where he belonged.

Darren broke into spontaneous applause as the kids held last note. “Wow, you guys killed it!” he exclaimed. “And let's hear it for our amazing soloist, Amber!” He gave her a high five, watching Amber blush as the rest of the choir clapped and cheered for her.

“Alright guys, time to pack up. Awesome job today,” Darren said. “See you tomorrow.” He walked back to the piano and begin to gather his sheet music, waving as several students shouted “Bye, Mr. C!” as they left.

Darren heard a knock at the door and looked up to see Rachel, the art teacher, standing in the doorway. “Hey Rach,” he greeted her. “What's up?”

Rachel quickly joined him at the piano, looking around to ensure that no students were within earshot before speaking. “Did you hear about the big meeting tomorrow night?” she asked.

“Big meeting?” Darren asked. “I thought it was just another boring PTA meeting - you know I never go to those...”

“No, this is something completely different. They are bringing in some hotshot school district administrator. Jeremy said that administrator is a budget specialist of some kind?”

Darren's eyes narrowed slightly. “A budget specialist, huh?”

“Yeah, and you know that's always bad news for people like us. Art and music are usually the first things to get cut,” Rachel replied, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Hey no, don't think like that,” Darren reassured, patting her shoulder. “We're two of the most popular teachers at this school and our teaching evaluations have been flawless. We've got nothing to be worried about, okay?”

“I hope you're right,” Rachel replied, still looking concerned.

“I usually am,” Darren teased. “Besides, you know I can charm the pants off some uptight middle-aged lady with a clipboard if that's what it takes to keep the funding for our programs.”

“Haha, true, that's one thing we do have on our side. You can be our charm offensive secret weapon,” Rachel laughed. But in any event, we're all going to go tomorrow tonight to hear the proposal and make sure our subjects are being represented. You in?”

“Of course,” Darren agreed easily.

“Excellent,” Rachel smiled, already feeling a little less tense. “Alright, I better go clean up my classroom – last period was kindergartners and water colors, it's a bloodbath in there right now,” she chuckled ruefully.

“Yikes,” Darren winced, pulling a face. “I can only imagine. See you tomorrow night?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

* * *

“Chris?”

Chris jumped a mile, looking up to see his secretary standing in the threshold to his office. “Jesus Ashley, you scared me!” he exclaimed. “I didn't realize you were still here.”

“Sorry about that... I was just about to head out, actually, unless you need me to stay?”

“No, of course not. You should get home. It's late.” Chris raised his arms above his head, stretching and twisting from side to side until the vertebrae in his spine popped.

“You should too,” she chastised gently. “You must be exhausted.”

“I will soon,” Chris replied, sliding off his glasses and carefully wiping a smudge on the lens with his tie. “I just want to go over the proposal one more time before the meeting tomorrow.”

“I'm glad you're planning to leave soon – you work too much as it is already,” Ashley tutted disapprovingly. “Did you come up with a solution?”

“I – sort of? The long and short of it is that we need to cut two million from their operating budget to keep the school open. That didn't leave me with many options. So yes, I found a way to do it, but I'm afraid none of the teachers are going to be very happy with my proposal.” Chris sighed heavily, running a hand through his already hopelessly mussed hair.

“Wow, two million? They’re in the hole that bad?” Ashley winced. “I'm impressed you found a way to keep the school open at all... Although I guess I shouldn't be surprised at this point, since you are obviously a miracle worker.”

“I don't know about that...” Chris said modestly.

“Hush, you totally are. And I know you're stressed about how they're going to take the news, but at the end of the day, you are just doing your job. I'm sure they'll understand...”

“I hope so,” Chris said, shaking his head, still not convinced.

“Do you want me to grab you anything else before I head out?” Ashley offered. “Another cup of coffee or something?”

“No thanks, I'm all set,” Chris replied, pointing to the Diet Coke on his desk. “Have a good night and be safe getting home...”

“You too... Don't stay here all night, okay honey?” Ashley urged. She wound a multicolored scarf around her neck, buttoned up her coat, and exited Chris' office with a final wave.

The door to his office swung shut with a muted thump, leaving him alone with only his racing thoughts. Chris sighed heavily, massaging his throbbing temple with his fingers. It had been a long, difficult day and yet he knew tomorrow would be even harder. Chris didn't relish the part of his job that required him to be the bad guy, the one who made the tough calls and brutal cuts. Somehow, knowing that there was no other alternative provided little solace in times like these. So he clung to the ritual, pulling up his spreadsheets and deciding to check each of the numbers one last time. It never changed the outcome, but Chris did it time and time again nonetheless. That way, Chris would feel no qualms when it came time to give his speech: _I'm sorry. I did everything I could. I tried, I honestly did, but there was simply no other option._

* * *

“Hey,” Darren whispered, sliding past several teachers to sit down next to Rachel. “Thanks for saving me a seat. What did I miss?”

“Not much,” Rachel whispered. “They were just introducing everyone and now the budget specialist is about to present the proposal.

“Which one's the budget specialist?” Darren asked, scanning the handful of people seated at the table at the front of the room.

“The one in the middle with the purple tie,” Rachel gestured.

“Him?” Darren asked. “He is...not what I was expecting.”

“I know, right?” Rachel replied. “He looks really young.”

“...and hot,” Darren supplied helpfully, taking in the man's long, lean body, flawless complexion, and artfully styled hair.

“I had a feeling you might say that,” Rachel giggled. “He looks like your type.”

“Hmm I don't know, I'm assuming that anyone who voluntarily chooses to be a budget specialist must be as dull as dirt,” Darren mused.

“Touchè,” Rachel whispered, winking at Darren.

“Okay, let's get started,” the man up front called out. “My name is Chris Colfer, and I'm the School Budget Administrator for the New York City Department of Education. My goal here tonight is to present a proposal to deal with major deficits your school is currently experiencing. All I ask is that you hear me out before you rush to conclusions. This was simply the only option I could find that would allow us to reduce spending enough to offset the deficit while still keeping the school operational.”

A murmur went through the crowd as Chris advanced to the next slide, showing a breakdown of the current deficits. He spoke, briefly explaining each term before clicking the small remote in his hand to show the amount of debt in that area. Quiet gasps were heard as he continued to outline the deficits in personnel payroll, operations, building maintenance, with six figure debts in each category.

“...when these numbers are added together,” Chris continued to narrate, “the total deficit is two million dollars. Since there is nothing that can be done, at least in the short term, to increase revenue that substantially, the only way to keep P.S. 21 operational is to reduce the operations budget by two million dollars....”

Darren sat, slack-jawed as Chris showed graph after graph that all showed the same grim statistics. The school needed two million dollar almost immediately just to keep the lights on and the doors open. They were screwed; hopelessly, hopelessly screwed.

Rachel grabbed Darren's hand, squeezing it tight enough to be painful. He turned to her, mouth still open but stunned speechless. He shrugged his shoulders helplessly, at a loss as to how to soothe his friend. He knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that their jobs were in danger now – everyone's jobs were.

* * *

“I hope you can appreciate that these decisions weren't made lightly, but the administration believes that we are doing what's in the best interests of the students and their families,” Chris concluded. He put down the notecard with his prepared statement, finally daring to look at the distinctly unhappy looking crowd. He took a moment to simply breathe, removing his glasses and massaging the bridge of his nose before addressing the crowd once more. “Now we're going to open the floor for a few questions before the we conclude the meeting. Please raise your hand if you wish to speak and Ashley will bring you a microphone.”

Almost immediately, a hand shot up. Chris waited while Ashley made her way to the young teacher dressed casually in faded jeans and an untucked button down shirt. “Hello,” Chris greeted him warmly. “If you would, please start with your name and subject that you teach – I apologize that I'm still getting to know all of you.”

“I'm Darren Criss and I teach Music,” the young teacher replied, looking a bit annoyed.

“Nice to meet you, Darren. And your question?”

“I just wanted to ask you if you were aware of the impact an arts curriculum has on a student's educational success? Subjects other than math and science have meaning, you know,” Darren spoke bluntly, his eyes boring into Chris' own. There was a quiet rumble of affirmation from all around Darren, with many teachers humming their agreement and even a few who clapped in response.

Chris' eyes went wide, doing his best not to let it show just how much Darren's biting response had flummoxed him. Needing a second to regain his composure, he reached for his water bottle, taking a long swig as he tried to come up with an appropriate response.

“Look, before I came here I used to teach English and Creative Writing so I'm well aware that subjects other than Math and Science have meaning. I have a lot of respect for what you do,” Chris said at last, addressing Darren directly, wanting him to see the sincerity behind his words. “For what all of you do everyday,” he continued, taking a moment to look at the whole room. “Cutting all electives and extracurricular activities was the only solution we could find to keep the school open and running. It was either do this or close the school and bus all the students to another school twenty miles away. I don't expect you to be happy about this decision, but please know that it's not personal.”

Darren looked as if he had more he wanted to say, but the young woman he was sitting next to tugged at his sleeve and he sat down reluctantly. Chris' face was still flushed hot from the confrontation, but he made a mental note to try to speak to Darren one-on-one after the meeting and explain where he was coming from. He doubted it would change anything, but for some reason, it seemed important to try.

“Right,” Chris began, relieved that his voice still sounded relatively calm and even, “any other questions?”

A middle aged woman raised her hand next. “Hi, I'm Brenda Davis, and I teach Computer Science. I'm hoping you can explain how you define electives? Aren't a certain number of elective courses part of the state curriculum requirement?”

Chris smiled encouragingly, grateful for a question he was prepared to answer. “That's a great question, Brenda. You're correct that there is a state requirement. Each student needs four quarters of an elective course per year. So we'll still expect teachers of non-core curriculum courses like art, music, dance, computer science, and similar subjects to teach one section of their subject for each grade level.”

In the audience, Darren and Rachel let out simultaneous sighs of relief.

“That's good,” Rachel whispered. “That means we still have jobs, right?”

“There will be some changes, however,” Chris continued. “Any specialized or redundant electives will be eliminated. There will only be one class section per grade, which means you won't be able to have an advanced art or computer science class for fifth graders as well as a regular fifth grade section. We'll also be eliminating any course activities that require tryouts or auditions like dance team or physical education class specifically for varsity athletes or the school play section of drama.”

“...or choir,” Darren gasped, horrified. “Shit.”

“Thank you for helping me clarify that, Brenda,” Chris said. He took a second to glance at the sea of faces, noting a range of reactions, from relieved to stricken. Still aside from Darren's biting words, the whole meeting had gone more smoothly than Chris had dared to hope for. He'd been expecting a full-fledged riot, pitchforks and all. Clearly, he needed to quit while he was ahead. “Any last questions before we conclude tonight?” Chris prompted, hoping no one would take the bait. He slowly counted to five, grateful when no hands shot up.

“Well it looks like there are no more questions. Before I call a close to the meeting, I just want to take a moment to say that I really appreciate all of you coming tonight and hearing me out. I know this will be a difficult time of transition for P.S. 21, but I'm confident that with your help, we will do what needs to be done for the students to keep the school open and running. I'll be here for the next few months to oversee the changes and continue to pursue additional sources of revenue, so please feel free to stop by my office with any questions or feedback. I'll also be doing my best to observe classes and get to know each of you better. We've set out some refreshments in the back and I'll be sticking around to answer any additional questions you may have. Thank you again for your time,” Chris concluded with a wan smile.

“Great job,” Ashley said, leaning over to congratulate Chris as soon as he switched off his microphone.

“I don't know about that,” Chris replied.

“No seriously, you did an amazing job. You thought they were going to hate you, and they don't.”

“It's possible that it's just a quiet hatred, a low-key hatred,” Chris chuckled. “But given the circumstances, I'll take it.”

“Excellent, now do I get to take you out for celebratory shots?” Ashley pleaded.

“Ash, I've told you before – I'm just not the shots kind of guy, and I have to stay for at least another 30 minutes to mingle and answer questions,” Chris sighed. “I'll totally do dinner this weekend though.”

“I'm just trying to help, hon. You're so young and hot, but you have the life of an elderly shut-in. It's time to spice things up, don't you think?”

“I'm not that dull, am I?” Chris gasped.

“Uhh,” Ashley stalled.

“Ouch... Okay, I need to go mingle with the teachers now, but starting tomorrow I promise to listen to you on matters related to my personal life,” Chris agreed reluctantly.

“Can I get that in writing?” Ashley teased.

* * *

“I'm going to go talk to him,” Darren practically growled. “If he thinks he can do this to me, to my kids, and get away with it, he's got another thing coming.”

“Sweetie, let's think it through,” Rachel warned, holding onto Darren's bicep as if he might sprint off and tackle Chris to the ground at any second. “Right now, you still have your job. Plus you already let him have it once tonight during the meeting. So maybe take some time, sleep on it overnight, and see how you feel in the morning, okay?” she encouraged.

“Rachel, I have to fight for my kids,” Darren said, voice softening. “They've worked so hard and come so far, and they deserve better than this.”

“So fight for your kids, Darren. I'm not saying you can't do that, but you need to fight smart, which is about having a compelling argument, not just emotion. It seems like this guy is all about money, so you've got to make a financial appeal.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Darren nodded, eyes distant and obviously lost in thought.

Rachel's eyes went wide as she watched Chris cross the room, headed straight for them. Before she had a chance to warn Darren, Chris was extending a hand in greeting.

“Hi, I'm Chris.”

“Rachel Adams, she replied, giving Chris a nervous smile.

“What do you teach, Rachel?” Chris asked.

“Art.”

“Oh I bet that's a lot of fun,” he smiled encouragingly.

“It can be,” she agreed. “Fun, but messy.”

“I can only imagine,” Chris chuckled. “So Rachel, I hope you don't mind if I steal your friend away for a second to talk?”

“Oh,” she began, exchanging a worried glance with Darren. “No, of course not. He's all yours. I was just getting ready to head out, actually. See you tomorrow?” she asked Darren.

“Sounds good. Be safe getting home,” Darren replied, totally calm and nonchalant.

“So...” Darren prompted once they were alone.

“So...” Chris echoed. “I feel like we got off on the wrong foot?”

“I don't know if it's possible to get off on the right foot with any of us when you're closing down half of the school activities,” Darren replied evenly.

“That's quite possibly true,” Chris said with a tight smile, hating how this guy seemed to have a particular knack for getting under his skin.

“So look, the thing is I run a choir here. A very successful, popular choir that brings a decent amount of money into the school. It only seems fair that you should come check us out before you make the final decision to shut us down, don't you think?” Darren asked coolly.

“I'd love to hear you guys sing, but it's not going to do anything to change my mind, I'm afraid,” Chris said apologetically. “This is a business decision and has nothing to do with the artistic merits of what you do. There just isn't money in the budget for everything and I can't play favorites with some activities over others. I don't expect anyone to be happy about that, but hopefully you can understand where I'm coming from, Darren?”

“I guess?” Darren shrugged. “It's just hard for me, because I know the kids and I know how much being involved in this choir means to all of them, and I don't want to be the one to let them down. Can you understand that, Chris?”

“I do, Darren,” Chris paused, gazing at Darren, wanting him to see the sincerity behind his words. “I really, really do, but you aren't the one letting them down.”

“I am if I don't try everything possible to keep their choir alive.” Darren rubbed at his temples, deciding to try taking Rachel's advice for a change. “So do you know how much money it would take to keep our choir up and running? Just out of curiosity?”

“I... not off the top of my head, no. I had to add in a lot of different factors when I calculated the total cost, though. It wasn't just the extra staff salaries for after-school activities and chaperoning events.”

“I'd totally waive my salary for the choir,” Darren interjected.

“I have to pay you a certain amount in order for you and the students to be covered on the school's liability insurance during those hours, though. Even still, there are other costs, like the increase in electricity bills to keep the lights and heat or air conditioning on during after-school hours and transportation to and from events, just to name a few,” Chris explained, still searching for the right way to let Darren down gently.

“But let's say, just for the sake of argument, that you came up with a number and I raised enough to cover those costs for a set amount of time, like one quarterly grading period – would you be willing to let me keep the choir running, even just on a trial basis?” Darren continued, undeterred.

“If you raised the money to pay for everything yourself? Yeah, I don't see why not, at least hypothetically,” he conceded. “But Darren, it's going to a larger number than what I think you are anticipating, okay? You aren't going to be able to raise this amount of money with bake sales and car washes.”

“Look, you haven't seen us in action yet, so you have no idea what we're capable of. Those kids have earned a lot of support in this community. What does it hurt to give us a chance? Fourteen days to change your mind. That seems fair, right?” Darren smiled his most charming smile, silently counting to ten while Chris considered his proposal.

“Okay, I'll do it,” Chris said at last. “With one big stipulation – I need you to keep our little deal quiet for now. Let's consider you a test case. If you're successful in raising the money, I'll give other teachers the option to do the same. If you fail, I go forward with my initial plan, agreed?”

“Deal,” Darren all but cheered. “You won't regret this, Mr. Colfer.” He extended a hand to shake with Chris.

“I hope not. And please call me Chris.”

“Okay Chris, so when do we start?” Darren grinned, already running through possible songs they could sing that would blow him away.

“Well, it'll probably take a day to break down all the costs related to your choir and I'm assuming you'll need some time to calculate all your expenses as well.”

“Mhmm,” Darren hummed in affirmation, only half listening.

“So how's the day after tomorrow work for our first meeting?” Chris suggested.

“That sounds perfect. Is 3:30 good for you?”

“Yes,” Chris nodded, pulling out his Blackberry and quickly adding it to his calendar.

“I'll be looking forward to it,” Darren winked flirtatiously, waving as he excused himself.

Chris felt his cheeks flush hot as he watched Darren walk away, still not sure how he'd been talked into agreeing to his ludicrous plan. Darren was persistent, sure, but he'd encountered plenty of persistent teachers in his years on the job. Maybe Ashley was right and his many years living the life of an elderly shut-in had left him a little too susceptible to the charms of the first young, cute (albeit brash) guy he'd encountered in a long time. But at the end of the day, it was unlikely Darren would be able to succeed at raising such a large amount of money in two weeks. Chris just hoped he'd be able to let him down gently and maybe make a friend along the way.


	2. It's Always Darkest Before the Dawn

Darren arrived early for work the next morning. He needed time to concentrate on selecting the perfect song and arrangement before his meeting with Chris tomorrow afternoon. He always found it easiest to get work done before the children and most of the staff arrived, when the school was empty and he could lose himself completely in the music echoing through the empty choir room.

Song selection was something that usually came easily to Darren, but after a night of thinking of options and tossing and turning, he was no closer to making a decision. He wanted something that would work lyrically and that would showcase his student's talents as well as his choir's ethos. It was a lot of pressure for one song, and Darren knew he couldn't afford to get it wrong.

He sipped a cup of coffee and pulled out a legal pad, jotting down notes on other things he needed to accomplish before the day was over. His thoughts quickly turned to the dreams that had haunted him the night before. All his students stood in a circle around him, their eyes impossibly wide and sad as they called out for help. Darren fought to reach them, but it was always too late. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get free from Chris' vise-like grip, couldn't shake him off. Which...hey. Suddenly an idea presented itself.

Darren grabbed his phone and quickly googled the lyrics to Shake It Out by Florence and The Machine. They were a perfect compliment to what Darren was feeling, encompassing the war between creativity and bureaucracy. It would be a risky song choice with lyrics like “And every demon wants his pound of flesh” and “it's hard to dance with a devil on your back so shake him off.” It was clever, Darren decided, as long as Chris didn't think he was calling him a demon and a devil.

Darren sat down at the piano, picking out the basic notes. The song's simple rhythms and melody were a blank canvas for him to do almost anything with. But in the end, Darren decided to go with a more traditional choral arrangement. When juxtaposed with the pop song, he hoped it would sum everything he'd been trying to do with the choir for the past few years: to make choral music exciting and relatable to kids who were much more interested in Katy Perry and Lady Gaga than Bach.

He grabbed some blank sheet music and began scribbling out the various parts for each section of choir. What he was plotting would be a good deal more complex than most of the pieces they'd done thus far this year, especially given that they only had a day and half to rehearse. It was a risk and a challenge, but one they had to take, especially with what they stood to lose if they weren't successful.

  
“Hey Chris,” Ashley said, poking her head into his office around midday. “Two quick questions – I was about to run out for lunch and wondered if you wanted me to bring you back something and the district superintendent called about setting up a short conference call. Is tomorrow at 3:15 good?”

“Uhh yes on the food, but I can't do 3:15 tomorrow. I've got another meeting at 3:30.”

“Since when?” Ashley frowned. “I don't have it on your calendar. Who with?”

“Oh it's fine, just something that got scheduled after the PTA address last night. And it's with someone in the music department. It shouldn't take that long, hopefully...” Chris sighed.

“With someone in the music department - oh by that do you happen to mean the cute guy who sassed you at the meeting last night?” Ashley practically squealed.

“Was he cute?” Chris rolled his eyes. “I don't know, Ash. He's not really my type.”

“Christopher, please, you know he's gorgeous. And it might be good to go after someone who isn't your type for a change. You could use a little fun in your life.”

“Are you saying I'm boring?” Chris asked.

“No, you're lovely and accomplished and interesting. But you've got to admit, your life is boring right now. All you do is work and sleep and work some more. I can barely coax you out of the house on weekends for a bite to eat or a drink. You're young, and you should be living it up, at least a little.”

“You may have a point there,” Chris admitted reluctantly. “Still that has nothing to do with Darren. Even if I was interested, which I'm most definitely not, you know I'm not allowed to have a relationship with anyone here while I'm still overseeing the school's budget.”

“Sure, while you're here, but that's for how long? Just a few months. All I'm saying is keep an open mind, alright?”

If I promise I will, can that be the end of this conversation, please?” Chris requested wearily. Ashley nodded her assent, a spreading grin on her face. “Okay fine, I'll keep an open mind,” he sighed. “Happy now?”

“I'm very happy, and I'll see if the superintendent will be okay with doing the conference call tomorrow morning instead.” Ashley strode out of his office, humming under her breath. “Door open or closed?” she asked, when she reached the threshold.”

“Closed, please.” Chris managed a tight smile, dropping his head to his hands as soon as the door closed behind Ashley, massaging his temples. Ashley was notoriously persistent when she got an idea in her head, and Chris was already fearing for his sanity. He was especially concerned at how nonchalant she seemed to be about blurring his professional life with his personal one. If there was one thing Chris prided himself on, it was his professionalism. The rules about not becoming involved with a subordinate existed for a reason, and Chris had no desire to cross over that boundary.

Still, if there was ever a person who existed to push the boundaries, it was probably Darren. Chris had already witnessed how easily he got under his skin and he was determined to let his logical side prevail this time.

  
“Okay guys,” Darren called to his students, “let's quiet down. We've got a lot to get through this afternoon. We're going to be learning a new song and -”

“Mr. C?” Dianna called, raising her hand.

“Yes Dianna,” Darren replied impatiently.

“Is our choir going away?” she asked, eyes wide.

“What? Why are you asking that?” Darren stalled, speechless.

“Because Jaime's mom went to that meeting yesterday and she said there was a new man who is really mean and scary and he said that singing is illegal at our school now. We were talking at lunch and we're scared because we don't want to go to jail...”

“Is that what everyone heard?” Darren asked, looking at the solemn faces staring back at him, nodding.

“Oh guys, no, of course not,” he soothed. “No one's going to jail, I promise. There was a new man there that is in charge of making sure the school has enough money to stay open, but he's not mean, I promise. He has  to cut out some after-school activities to save money, but I told him all about you and how talented you all are. So guess what? He's coming to hear you sing tomorrow afternoon, and if he likes what we do, he'll let us keep the choir. But no matter what, we'll still have music class during the day and singing will never be illegal, I swear.” Darren smiled at the visibly relieved students, feeling a swell of love for them. “I just need you guys to do one thing for me. It's really important.”

“What?” called several students.

“I need you to give me your listening ears today and really focus, okay? We're going to learn a new song today and we're performing tomorrow, which doesn't give us very long to get it just right. But we need to sing the best we've ever sang tomorrow, right?” A few students called “yeah' but most just nodded.

“Let's try that again - I can't HEARRRR you,” Darren shouted. “Right?” he asked, putting a hand to his ear.

“YEAH!” the whole choir cheered.

“That's more like it,” Darren smiled. He grabbed a stack of photocopied sheet music from the piano, quickly passing it out. “Okay guys, let's get to work.”

* * *

Chris knocked on the door to the music room the next day, promptly at 3:30.

“Come in,” Darren called.

Chris opened the door, and was immediately met with a wall of sound.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Colfer,” thirty children shouted in unison.

“I...” Chris said, totally thrown off balance. He turned to Darren, perplexed. “I thought you and I would be meeting alone?” he asked. “Do you want me to come back later?”

“No, of course not,” Darren laughed. “You're the guest of honor, after all. He grabbed his arm, leading him to the front of the room. “Here, sit,” he directed, pointing at a chair next to the piano, facing the kids. “We wanted to sing a little something for you first, to show our gratitude.”

“Oh, that wasn't necessary,” Chris managed breathlessly.

“Sure it was!” Darren replied. “Besides, how can you make an informed decision about us when you haven't even seen what we can do?”

Chris opened his mouth, looking from Darren to the children before closing it again. He wasn't sure what Darren's strategy was here. He thought he'd made himself abundantly clear that his decision would be about the money and nothing else. Still, it was clear that the kids had gone to a lot of trouble to prepare something for him, and he didn't want to let them down. It couldn't hurt to hear one song, could it?

“I guess I have time for one song,” Chris said at last, smiling at the children.

“Wonderful!” Darren clapped his hands together. “Okay guys, you ready?” He waited patiently until all students were quiet and still, their eyes on him. He played a single note on the piano, and then counted out the [opening notes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gj-ntawOBw4). The students came in together, humming a note in unison, before a young boy begin to sing a solo a cappella, the rest of the choir carrying quiet harmonies behind him.

_Regrets collect like old friends_   
_Here to relive your darkest moments_   
_I can see no way, I can see no way_   
_And all of the ghouls come out to play_   
_And every demon wants his pound of flesh_   
_But I like to keep some things to myself._   
_I like to keep my issues drawn_   
_It's always darkest before the dawn_

Darren came in on the piano as the choir began to sing together, sounding like a chorus of angels. Even with Chris' more limited musical experience, he could still tell that the harmonies and precision of this choir were well beyond what most fifth graders were capable of.

_And I've been a fool and I've been blind_   
_I can never leave the past behind_   
_I can see no way, I can see no way_   
_I'm always dragging that horse around_   
_Our love is pastured, such a mournful sound_   
_Tonight I'm gonna bury that horse in the ground_   
_I like to keep my issues drawn_   
_It's always darkest before the dawn_

The voices crescendoed at the chorus and suddenly Chris recognized the song. They were covering Florence and the Machine, but in a completely different way. He had to give Darren for that, because the sparse arrangement highlighted the choir's voices superbly. Instead of an anthem, it was haunting, almost operatic.

_Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa_   
_Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa_   
_And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back_   
_So shake him off, oh whoa_

Chris was watching Darren carefully, wanting to see the passion in his eyes for what he did. He smiled as he watched him mouth the words along with the kids, nodding in time with the beat as a way to direct them while he continued to play the piano. Unfortunately, that meant he didn't miss Darren's tiny smirk as the children sang “ _it's hard to dance with the devil on your back.”_ Chris flushed hot as the pieces came together in his head. Darren was talking about him. Chris was the devil the kids were singing about shaking off. Is that what they honestly thought of him?

Heart sinking, he forced a smile and looked back at the kids, determined to give them the attention they deserved. It wasn't their fault that they had a cocky choir director that seemed to take pleasure in humiliating him at every turn. It was his fault, he decided. Chris had made the first mistake, which was letting someone in. He thought he'd been doing the right thing by giving Darren a chance to fundraise enough money to sustain his own program. But it was clear to him now that Darren hadn't been listening to a word he said to him after the meeting.

A new soloist stepped forward confidently and began to sing, drawing Chris back into the music.

_I am done with my graceless heart_   
_Tonight I'm gonna cut it out and then restart_   
_'Cause I like to keep my issues drawn_   
_It's always darkest before the dawn_

Each time the chorus was repeated, Chris felt a new stab of pain. Don't take it personally, he kept reminding himself. Still it was hard not to take it personally because it was personal. As much as he knew he was just doing his job, it still hurt all the same when people hated him for it. It was worse with Darren because he'd felt something that first time they'd spoken one-on-one. It wasn't attraction per se, but it was hard to deny that there had been sparks. He felt alive around Darren in those few short moments in a way that he hadn't felt in a long time.

_Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa_   
_Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa_   
_And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back_   
_So shake him off, oh whoa._   
_And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back._   
_Given half the chance would I take any of it back?_   
_It's a fine romance but it's left me so undone_   
_It's always darkest before the dawn._

A tiny girl stepped forward, looking much younger than the other fifth graders surrounding her. She opened her mouth and begin to sing with a crystal clear voice that sounded much beyond her years. Even as he was still fuming, Chris had to admit that Darren had assembled an amazing stable of talent. It would be a shame to see it go undeveloped without the choir, but that was his job.

_And I'm damned if I do and I'm damned if I don't_   
_So here's to drinks in the dark at the end of my road_   
_And I'm ready to suffer and I'm ready to hope_   
_It's a shot in the dark aimed right at my throat_   
_'Cause looking for heaven, found the devil in me_   
_Looking for heaven, found the devil in me_   
_Well what the hell I'm gonna let it happen to me, yeah_

Chris sensed the song coming to an end as the children's voices built to a crescendo, singing the final chorus. He breathed a sigh of relief and tried to decide how to handle Darren once it was over. He didn't want to be cruel, especially with the children involved that had clearly been working their hardest and singing their hearts out.

_Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa_   
_Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa_   
_And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back_   
_So shake him off, oh whoa._   
_Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa_   
_Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa._   
_And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back_   
_So shake him off, oh whoa._

Chris forced a wide smile and counted slowly to three once the song was over, before standing and breaking into applause. “Wow guys, that was wonderful!” he exclaimed to the kids, keeping his back to Darren and trying to push the anger from his mind.

“So...” Darren said, coming up behind Chris and clapping a hand on his shoulder, “are we good to go now?”

 _That cocky little shit_ , Chris inwardly seethed. _Did he really think I'd be that easy? I'd hear one song and be so charmed by the kids that I'd throw the budget out the window and leap into his arms? Seriously?_

Ignoring Darren, Chris shrugged off his hand and walked toward the children. “You are all really good singers,” he praised. “How long have you been working on that song?”

“Only two days,” a kid in the front row answered. “But Mr. C made us practice it a lot.”

“I bet he did,” Chris chuckled. “Well the practice has really paid off, everyone. You sounded amazing.”

“Yay!” the kids cheered, exchanging high fives.

“I'm glad you liked it,” Darren grinned.

Before Darren could say more, Chris whirled to face him. “Can I talk to you in private?” he requested.

“Sure,” Darren replied easily. Turning to the kids, he said “Okay guys, you are dismissed for the day. Great job everyone, especially my soloists. I'll see you during music class tomorrow. Make sure you turn in your sheet music to the stack on the piano before you leave.”

The kids gathered their backpacks and filed out quickly, several stopping to give Darren hugs or high fives on their way out. As the door swung shut behind the last student, Chris took a deep, steadying breath, trying to figure out where to start without letting his anger and frustration get the better of him.

Before he could say a word, Darren spoke, still oblivious to the situation. “So you never answered my question earlier...”

“Darren, stop,” Chris interrupted, “What the hell was that?”

Darren's face fell. “What do you mean?” he asked. “It was a song... I wanted you to see what we could do.”

“Were you even listening to what I said to you after the PTA meeting?” Chris pressed.

“Of course I was...”

“Okay, then what was the deal we made?” Chris looked pointedly at Darren.

“You said you'd give us a chance to prove that our choir was worth saving. That if we could -”

“What was the one thing I said I was basing my decision on?” Chris interjected.

“Money...” Darren mumbled, looking at the ground.

“That's right – and what did today have to do with money?”

“I just thought if you could see what we do, you might realize that these kids are worth saving!” Darren said angrily. “I wanted you to know that your decisions weren't just about money, but about flesh and blood kids that love music, that love what they do!”

“...And you don't think the same would be true of the kids playing football or in the art club?” Chris pointed out.

“I...” Darren managed, hanging his head. “I guess they probably feel the same way.”

“Exactly. That's why I can't play favorites here. I have to remain objective which means that I base my decision on the money, and nothing else. So I came here today with the figures for the school-wide expenses of what it takes to run your choir and I was expecting that you and I would look at your personal expenses for things like sheet music, supplies, and transportation to and from events. Do you have that information ready for me?”

“No, I... I guess I put all my eggs in one basket. I was thinking if I impressed you with all our choir could do, you might cut me some slack in the financial department.”

“Well, then it looks like we have nothing further to discuss. I wanted to give you a chance to prove you could do this on your own, but I guess that was a bad idea,” Chris said, a little sadly, standing to leave.

“No wait!” Darren cried, grabbing Chris' arm. “Look, I really fucked this up. I get that now. I was being cocky and expecting special treatment, when you were perfectly clear from the beginning. Please don't punish the kids for that...”

Chris sighed heavily. “Darren, the deal from the beginning was you had fourteen days to raise the money. You're two days into it and you still don't know how much you need to raise so I'm afraid it's just not possible at this point.”

“You've seen how talented these kids are though, right? You've got to give me that.”

“Yes, they're very talented, Darren. That's never been in dispute.”

“So if anyone could convince strangers to donate money, it's these kids, don't you agree?” Darren asked, eyes pleading.

“I suppose so,” Chris agreed wearily.

“Then let me try? I don't know if I could face my kids and tell them that choir was over if I hadn't done everything possible first...”

“I just don't know if that's fair...” Chris frowned, still uncertain.

“The same deal as before, nothing changes. I wasted two days being stupid, so I've only got twelve left. I'll stay here as late as I need to tonight and put together all the figures that you need. If you would be willing to come back tomorrow, I'll have everything prepared and we can have the meeting you were expecting to have today, okay?” Darren held eye contact with Chris, letting him see the sincerity in his gaze.

Chris silently deliberated, weighing the pros and cons. On the one hand, everything about the meeting today had been one giant slap in the face. Still, Chris had been blown away by the children and their talent. He thought back to his early days in theater and music, and how it had provided solace when everything else was filled with constant pain and humiliation. It was a tough call to make.

“I'll do it, on two conditions,” Chris said at last, resolute.

“Of course, anything,” Darren babbled, the relief evident on his face.

“First, no more taking potshots at me, especially using your kids to do it,” Chris demanded.

“What do you mean?” Darren asked, voice trembling. But Chris could tell by the way his cheeks and ears went beet red that he knew he'd been found out.

“C'mon Darren, the whole 'it's hard to dance with the devil on your back' thing? You were totally talking about me. I'm sure you thought you were being clever, but it was obvious.”

“I...” Darren looked stricken. “You're totally right – it was completely unprofessional of me and I apologize. It won't happen again.”

“Good,” Chris said. “Then on to condition two: from now on, you take this seriously. You either earn all the money by yourself in twelve days or no deal. Got it?”

“Absolutely,” Darren nodded solemnly.

“Then I'll see you tomorrow at 3:30. Make sure you have everything prepared this time,” Chris stood for a second time and strode from the room, as confidently as he could manage. Once he was out of the choir room and down the hallway out of view, he stopped, leaning against a wall. His legs were wobbly and his heart was pounding from the stress and adrenaline. He'd never been good at confrontation, but he'd found it was much easier when he was confronting a group of people, rather than an individual, like at the PTA meeting when he was addressing the whole room.

Addressing Darren one-on-one when there was that much tension in the room had been nothing short of a nightmare. Something about Darren made it hard for him to remain objective, because it felt personal. Chris remained there for several minutes, breathing slowly in and out, and trying to regain his bearings.

* * *

Darren spent most of the evening in a frantic haze. He'd really fucked it up this time, letting his ego get the better of him. Though it was hard to admit, things had often come easily to him. Sure, he'd still worked hard and earned everything he'd accomplished, but when it came to interpersonal interactions, he could skate by on his good looks, friendly demeanor, and little else. It was rare that he met someone who wasn't charmed by him. Until Chris.

This time, Darren knew he had only himself to blame. He wasn't a details kind of guy, but Chris clearly was and he hadn't listened. Worse still, he'd hurt him by trying to be clever with the song selection. He'd failed as a teacher and human being and he just wanted to curl up in a ball and hide.

But hiding from the world wasn't an option, because he had thirty kids who were depending on him to do the right thing. So instead, Darren threw himself into the task at hand. He spent two hours sifting through receipts, researching his choir's expenses for the last twelve months. Once he was confident he had every number accounted for, he started working on a Powerpoint presentation. Nothing flashy this time, just charts and graphs that soberly laid out all of the expenses, broken down in four different ways so that no matter which way Chris asked for it, he'd be prepared.

It was almost midnight before he made it home, splurging on a cab instead of walking the 10 blocks to his apartment like usual because he was so exhausted. Once he made it inside, he forced himself to stagger over to the closet instead of face-planting on the bed, taking a few minutes to check that he had a suit clean and to iron a white shirt to go with. At last, satisfied, he laid everything out, stripped off his clothes and climbed underneath the duvet. He was asleep the second his head hit the pillow.

Darren paced the music room nervously the next afternoon, waiting for Chris to arrive. He thought back to all the questions the kids had put to him during music class earlier, feeling the knot in his stomach grow. They'd all bounded into the room that morning, dying to know if they'd done a good enough job to save the choir. Darren had done everything in his power to reassure them that they had, but he couldn't lie to them, not when he knew how unhappy Chris had been. So he'd done the best that he could and promised them that they did their jobs and now it was his turn to do the same. He'd already practiced his presentation four times and was confident that whatever questions Chris had, he'd be ready. He just hoped that it would be enough. After the confrontation yesterday, Darren had lost his easy confidence. He was aware now that this was a tenuous arrangement and if he did anything that made Chris think he wasn't taking it seriously enough, it could all be over in the blink of an eye.

Chris arrived right on schedule at 3:30. “Hello – are you ready?” he greeted him, all business.

Darren nodded, directing Chris to take a seat near the projector, pulling up his presentation. He waited while Chris removed a small file folder and a legal pad from his briefcase. “Okay,” Chris said at last, when he had everything arranged. “You can begin.”

“I just wanted to start this meeting by apologizing again for yesterday and letting you know how much I appreciate you giving me a second chance,” Darren began, his voice a little wobbly. That was new for him. He rarely got nervous, but he was honestly terrified that Chris wouldn't like what he had to say.

“I heard what you wanted yesterday, and I hope this presentation will answer all of the questions you have about the choir's expenses. I've broken down the numbers in several different ways, so if the expenses aren't presented as you need them to be, just let know and I can show them to you a different way.” Darren was relieved when Chris finally glanced up at him when he said that, looking surprised.

“Great Darren, I appreciate that. I'll let you know,” Chris said, finally giving him a small smile. Darren let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, relaxing slightly.

Darren advanced to the first slide and began his presentation, almost able to recite the numbers from memory, given how much he'd rehearsed. With each slide, it got a little easier and Darren's confidence grew. Chris took notes throughout, occasionally pausing to ask him a clarifying question or have him give the numbers broken down in a different way. Thankfully his preparation seemed to be paying off and he was ready every time Chris asked him something new. By the final slide, Darren was feeling cautiously optimistic.

“That's all I have in terms of my expenses. Hopefully I didn't leave anything out?” Darren ventured tentatively.

“I don't think so...” Chris said, scribbling furiously on his pad. “Hang on one sec, I'm just totaling my expenses with yours to come up with a sum.”

“Okay...” Darren replied, heart hammering in his throat as he waited.

“So that puts total expenses for running the choir at just under ten grand for the entire year. We said we'd do this on a trial basis for one quarterly grading period, so I divided that number by four. That means the total you'd need to raise in the next twelve days is $2,450.” Chris looked at Darren, awaiting his response.

“Okay, that's what I'll do then,” Darren nodded. “If that's what it takes, I'll find a way.”

“It's a lot of money to raise in that short a time span,” Chris warned. “But you did a good job today and if you can apply that same energy to fundraising, who knows...”

“Thank you,” Darren said, practically crying with relief.

“Seriously, I'm impressed,” Chris said more encouragingly.

“And I'm motivated,” Darren said firmly, holding eye contact with Chris.

“So I see, not that I've ever doubted that for a second,” Chris chuckled. “But honestly, I can tell that you put a lot of time and thought into this presentation which I really appreciate.” Chris gave him a sheepish smile that didn't reach his eyes, a quick flash of something guarded that Darren couldn't quite detect. “I never wanted to take hope away, you know? That's not my intention here.”

“I know,” Darren nodded, wanting Chris to feel the sincerity behind his words. “And for what it's worth, that's not how I think of you. Not anymore, anyways.”

“Good,” Chris said, his face beaming. Darren was thrilled to see the ice between them start to thaw after all the earlier tension. “I'm glad we're making progress. We should meet again in a few days to talk about your fundraising plans. I'll have my assistant send you an email to set something up.”

“Okay, I'll be working on ideas. I know we've got to move quickly if I'm going to raise $2,500 by the deadline.”

“Hey, if anyone can do it, you can. And for what it's worth, good luck - I'll be rooting for your kids to succeed.” Chris gathered his things together, placing them back into the briefcase. “I'll be in touch,” he said, waving as he left.

Darren peeled off his suit coat and loosened his tie once he was alone, sinking into a chair. He looked down, noticing that his hands were still shaking from the surge of adrenaline that had propelled him through the presentation. Thankfully, he'd done enough, at least for now. Still it was going to take a winning idea to raise such a large sum of money in twelve day. He pulled up a blank word document, determined to put the adrenaline to good use by brainstorming fundraising strategies. He knew he would crash sooner or later, thanks to the sleep deprivation, but for now, he was awake and very, very motivated.

* * *

Chris was wrapping things up just after 6 pm when he was startled by a knock on the door. “Come in,” he called tentatively, used to being alone in the building at this time of night.

“Hey, it's me again,” Darren said, popping in. “Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I was just heading out for the night and saw the light on in your office. But I was thinking if you don't have any plans this evening, would you want to go grab some dinner or coffee?” Darren blurted out, before he could lose his nerve.

“You mean like a...” Chris began, his words halting.

“Not a date or anything like that,” Darren rushed to reassure, his cheeks flushed. “Strictly professional. I'm starving and have nothing to eat at my apartment and didn't want to eat alone, and just thought...you might feel the same? But if you've got other plans, I totally understand...”

Chris paused for a long moment before answering, considering Darren's offer. To be honest, he would love the company and break from his normal routine. The only issue was that his dinner companion would be Darren, the same Darren who'd already let him down once before. A tiny part of Chris worried that this was all some elaborate ruse to gain his favor to help Darren's choir. But Chris reminded himself that Darren had done well today and seemed to be getting the message that there would be no special favors.

“Well, I guess that would be okay,” Chris said at last. “As I said at the PTA meeting, I am trying to get to know the teachers a little better and I'd like to hear your story – how you ended up teaching at PS 21 and all that. So as long as you don't mind sharing a little a bit, sure, why not.”

“Of course I don't mind,” Darren replied with a wide grin. “Tonight I'm an open book...”

“Excellent.” Chris began to gather his things, feeling a bit awkward as Darren watched him shut down his computer and shove files in his briefcase. “Since this is your borough, I'm going to let you pick the spot, okay?” Chris asked as he put on his scarf and coat.

“There's a great little cafe just down the street,” Darren replied. “It's got coffee but also sandwiches and soup if that sounds good to you? Assuming you don't mind a short walk, that is.”

“Not at all,” Chris nodded. “Just lead the way.”

Darren smiled, picking up the guitar case from where it rested at his feet and slinging it over one shoulder. He walked over to Chris, extending his arm. “Right this way, sir,” he directed with mock formality.

After a second's hesitation, Chris took Darren's offered arm. Chris allowed himself to be led from the building by Darren, cheeks hot and body tingling at every point of contact. As Darren continued to hum obliviously, one persistent thought kept nagging at Chris' consciousness. _I am so screwed._


	3. There are Many Things That I Would Like to Say to You

“Are you sure you're okay?” Darren asked, helping a limping Chris into the cafe. He pulled out a chair at the nearest table and lowered Chris into it carefully.

“Yeah, I'm fine. It's only my pride that's wounded, trust me,” Chris reassured.

“I shouldn't have let go of you,” Darren shook his head. “If I hadn't stopped to tie my shoe...”

“No seriously, I'm just a huge klutz. I'm sure I would have slipped on the ice even if I'd still been holding your arm. At least this way I didn't take you down with me too,” Chris sighed, rubbing his elbow.

“Well, in that case, you stay right where you are and I'll get the drinks,” Darren teased. “I hate to drink caffeine at this time of night, but I need something warm to drink so I'm going to get a hot chocolate. What can I get you?”

“That sounds wonderful – I'll have the same,” Chris replied, reaching into his coat pocket for his wallet.

“No need, it's on me,” Darren waved him off.

“Oh no, please let me give you some money.”

“Don't worry about it. I'll get the drinks and you can always get the sandwiches if that makes you feel better,” Darren offered. “I'll bring us back some menus.”

“Sounds good, thanks,” Chris replied. As soon as Darren was out of sight, Chris rolled up his pant leg, taking a look at the blooming bruise on his knee. “Ouch,” he winced, rubbing his fingers over the knot. Next he slid off his coat so he could inspect the damage to his elbow and forearm, shaking his head at the spot of blood he could already see staining through his button down shirt. He rolled up the sleeve and took a napkin from the table, pressing it to the cut.

Chris took a moment to look around the cozy cafe, taking in the décor. It wasn't the type of place he'd normally frequent, but it had a certain charm. There was a small raised platform in one corner, with a piano and a few stools. Throughout the room were small tables and well worn upholstered chairs in a variety of brocade fabrics. The crowd was equally eclectic, but mostly twenty and thirty-something year olds – students, a few families, and young professionals unwinding after work, all (with the possible exception of Darren) surprisingly less hipster than Chris had anticipated.

Chris was startled seconds later when Darren appeared, setting a large mug of hot chocolate down in front of him. “Oh no,” he breathed, eyes concerned. “That looks bad.”

“Hmm?” Chris asked, confused.

“Your elbow,” Darren gestured, pulling his chair over next to Chris, so close that their knees were bumping. “Here, let me see.”

“Oh no, it's fine,” Chris reassured, trying to wave it off. “It's just a little scratch.”

Darren just shook his head, undeterred. He reached out, carefully removing Chris' hand from the wound so he could see.

“Ouch,” he winced. “That's not a little scratch, Chris. It looks deep.” Darren bent down, fishing for his backpack and rummaging through it for a few seconds. “Got it,” he finally called triumphantly, sitting a small plastic first aid kit on the table.

“Do you always carry a first aid kit with you?” Chris asked, bemused.

“I...do? But in my defense, I teach elementary school. Occupational hazard,” Darren winked. He opened the kit and quickly set out a peroxide wipe, a small tube of Neosporin, and a bandaid on the table.

“Fair enough, but seriously you don't have to do all this. I can take it from here,” Chris said nervously.

“Just let me,” Darren murmured, tearing open the wipe. “Okay?” he asked, gazing at Chris for a long moment.

“I...okay,” Chris nodded, staring back at Darren, feeling warmed from inside out by the slow, honey-sweet smile he received in return.

Darren reached out, winding a hand around Chris' wrist and guiding his arm until it was facing him at the proper angle. “Peroxide - it's going to sting,” he warned, before tentatively swiping the pad along the edge of the cut. Chris sucked in a breath, doing his best not to wince visibly. “Sorry, almost done,” he said, methodically cleaning the wound.

“There you go,” Darren whispered, bending down and blowing cool air across the cut, causing Chris to shiver. That seemed to startle Darren from his reverie and his eyes flew to Chris' face. “Sorry, it's a habit,” he said, blushing.

Chris just smiled, waiting patiently while Darren placed a small dab of Neosporin on the cotton center of a large bandaid and carefully applied it. “All finished,” he said as he smoothed down the final corner of the bandage.

“Much better,” Chris murmured, unable to tear his eyes from Darren's gaze. He swore he could still feeling the phantom prickle of goosebumps from where Darren's breath had caressed his skin.

“Good,” Darren whispered, still holding Chris' forearm. He trailed his thumb up and down Chris' skin with feather-light strokes.

“So, are you guys about ready to order?” a waitress appeared suddenly, breaking the trance. Darren pulled away from Chris, flashing him an apologetic grin, and Chris tried his best not to feel too disappointed. He wasn't exactly sure what was happening between the two of them, but he knew that every cell in his body was screaming for more of it. So Chris made the conscious decision not to question it and to ignore the nagging thought that was telling him to maintain a professional distance.

“Well, I always get the same thing, so I'm ready, but what about you Chris?” Darren asked.

“Uh yeah, I'll just have the California Club.”

“White or wheat?” the waitress asked.

“Wheat.”

“Okay great,” the waitress answered, scribbling the order on her notepad. “And I'm assuming you want the usual, hon?” she continued, flashing a smile at Darren.

“Absolutely. Thanks, Tori.”

“Anytime – are you going to grace us with some of your music tonight?” she asked. “I see you brought your guitar.”

“Hmm,” Darren stroked at the scruff on his chin, as if in deep thought, “I don't know about that.”

“Oh c'mon! Just one song?” Tori prodded.

“But I wouldn't want to leave my dinner companion all alone...”

“I'd actually love to hear you sing,” Chris interjected.

“See! Well that settles it then,” Tori exclaimed.

“I guess so,” Darren chuckled. He leaned over to Tori. “He's my boss so I kind of have to do what he says,” he stage whispered conspiratorially.

Chris just laughed, blushing.

“Excellent.” Tori rubbed her hands together with glee. “It's good to know there's someone else keeping him in line.”

“It's a tough job, but someone's got to do it,” Chris joked back. Darren rolled his eyes fondly at both of them.

“Alright boys, I better go put this order in. And Darren, time to bust out the guitar because you're up,” Tori said, pointing at the small stage in the corner.

“Yes m'am,” Darren replied, giving her an overly formal salute.

“So...” Chris began, once they were alone. “What are you going to play?”

“That's a great question,” Darren said, pulling out his guitar and beginning to tune it. “Any requests?”

“No, I'll leave that up to you. I'm afraid my musical experience began and ended with community theater in high school.”

“So you can sing then?” Darren asked. “Any chance I can talk you into a duet?'

“Oh god no.” Chris immediately responded. “No chance in hell. It's been a long time since I've sung in public.”

“Maybe one day?”

“I seriously doubt it,” Chris replied, laughing as Darren pouted comically, his eyes going impossibly wide and sad. “But you know, never say never...”

“I'll keep working on you then. I can be very convincing when I need to be,” Darren all but purred.

“I'm sure you can be,” Chris managed. He rubbed at his neck nervously. “So do you know what you're going to sing?”

“I do now... You've inspired me.”

“Oh yeah?” Chris asked, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“It's a surprise – you'll see,” Darren teased. He slid the guitar strap around his neck and stood, patting Chris' shoulder before making his way to the stage.

Chris turned his chair so that he was facing Darren, watching as he settled himself on a small stool and adjusted the microphone to the correct height.

“Good evening,” Darren greeted the dozen or so customers in the cafe. “I've been talked into playing a quick song for you all. This one's for Chris. Thanks for believing in me.”

Chris inhaled sharply, unprepared for the dedication. Several patrons turned to look when Darren gestured at him and Chris could only manage a weak smile, feeling hot and exposed. He took a deep breath, trying to slow the furious beating of his heart as Darren began to play the first notes of haunting, [familiar melody](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kzZhtrsbJzs) on his guitar.

_Today is gonna be the day_   
_That they're gonna give it back to you._   
_By now you should've somehow_   
_Realized what you gotta do_

Chris' jaw dropped, unprepared for the soulful, note-perfect voice that erupted from Darren. He wasn't just good, he was great. Darren looked directly at Chris as he sang the next line and he was spellbound.

_I don't believe that anybody_   
_Feels the way I do about you now_

Chris' face was hot, but he couldn't pull himself away from Darren's magnetic gaze. He looked so utterly at home and at peace up on that stage, the guitar and microphone seeming like extensions of his own body.

_Backbeat the word is on the street_   
_That the fire in your heart is out._   
_I'm sure you've heard it all before_   
_But you never really had a doubt_

Darren's eyes sought him out again as he sang the line directly to him.

_I don't believe that anybody_   
_Feels the way I do about you now_

Chris looked around the room, noticing that everyone in the room had gone still, their eyes on Darren as well. It was a quiet, unassuming song, yet Darren still managed to command the attention of everyone in the room effortlessly.

_And all the roads we have to walk are winding_   
_And all the lights that lead the way are blinding_

Still, Chris could swear that Darren had eyes only for him.

There are many things that I would like to say to you  
But I don't know how

That was a sentiment that Chris could definitely relate to. He couldn't put a name to it, but he was sure that something was happening. It was big and scary, and despite his vow not to question it, his doubts and fears were knocking at his brain, just begging to be let out and heard.

Darren was studying his face, Chris realized – searching his face for a sign as he sang directly to him.

_I said maybe_   
_You're gonna be the one that saves me_   
_And after all_   
_You're my wonderwall_

That's why Chris thought the melody sounded familiar, he realized. It was a song he'd listened to probably hundreds of a time before, but had never really heard until now. Something about Darren's quiet, stripped back arrangement was really connecting with him, not to mention the way Darren was singing it to him as if his very life depended on it.

_Today was gonna be the day_   
_But they'll never bring it back to you_   
_By now you should've somehow_   
_Realized what you gotta do_   
_I don't believe that anybody_   
_Feels the way I do about you now_   
_And all the roads we have to walk are winding_   
_And all the lights that lead the way are blinding_

Darren's eyes found his once more as he sang the final lyrics to him, a shy, private smile on his lips.

There are many things that I would like to say to you  
 _But I don't know how_  
 _I said maybe_  
 _You're gonna be the one that saves me_  
 _And after all_  
 _You're my wonderwall_  
 _You're my wonderwall_  
 _You're my wonderwall..._

Chris sat in reverie as Darren played the last few notes on the guitar. The whole room was still in hushed silence for a moment before erupting into applause. Wow, Chris mouthed to himself, as he joined in the enthusiastic applause, grinning as Darren bowed before making his way back to their table.

“So yeah...” Darren said by way of greeting, looking nervous for the first time all night, possibly the first time since Chris had met him. “Sorry to leave you on your own for a few minutes.” He fussed with his guitar, taking his time to put it back in his case while avoiding eye contact with Chris.

“Are you kidding me?” Chris asked. “That was seriously amazing.”

“Yeah? You liked your song?”

“No, I loved it, you idiot,” Chris scoffed.

“Well then,” Darren laughed. “I'm glad – even if you did just call me an idiot.”

“Do you seriously not know how good you are?”

“Stop it,” Darren preened. “You're going to make me blush.” Chris rolled his eyes fondly. “But in all seriousness, I think I'm exactly where I belong, teaching music to my kids. I doubt a solo career was going to happen for me.”

“How'd you decide? Did you always know you wanted to teach?” Chris took a sip of his hot chocolate, barely suppressing a moan at how good it was.

“Eh, it's kind of a long story...”

“...And we've got all night. Continue,” Chris demanded.

“So bossy tonight,” Darren teased. “Well, I always knew I wanted music to be my career, yes. I got my first guitar at four years old, because I wanted to be just like my big brother. It came easily, all instruments do for me really. But it's more than that... I guess I've always just loved how music is such a communal experience - the way it's a language of all its own, you know? I wrote my first song when I was twelve and going through puberty and just generally feeling like an idiot who couldn't do anything right. I needed a way to put all of the complex emotions I was feeling into something. So I wrote this song called Human and that was kind of it for me - I was hooked.”

“Would you play it for me sometime?” Chris couldn't help but ask.

“If you play your cards right, maybe...” Darren joked. “But yeah sure, if you really want. I still think it's the best song I've ever written, because it's pure, you know? There was nothing else influencing me except for a desire to get all those emotions onto the page.”

“So how'd you end up deciding on teaching?”

“Well, I stayed with music throughout high school and college – solo gigs at open mics, played with a band a bit, kept writing music, and theater. I majored in Music and Composition, which gave me a broad base in everything. But honestly? It didn't feel like enough to just make music for myself and a small circle of friends and acquaintances. As cheesy as it sounds, I wanted to be able to inspire people. I always loved working with kids – there's just something about their energy and their honesty, you know? So I decided to go back to school and get my teaching certification while I played smaller gigs for extra cash. I've been at P.S. 21 for four and a half years now and I've never looked back.”

“Do you ever miss doing the other music stuff?” Chris pressed. “You're really talented.”

“Thank you,” Darren smiled. “But no, I don't really miss it, because I never stopped doing it. I still write songs and I play here a bit and I get to do all the arrangements for the kids which is a lot of fun.”

“I bet,” Chris smiled. “They really seem to love you, not to mention respect you, which is no easy feat at that age.”

They were briefly interrupted by Tori who brought them their sandwiches, taking a moment to congratulate Darren on “crushing his performance, as always.” She exchanged a questioning glance with Darren, which Chris could tell was aimed at him, curious about their relationship he assumed. Darren blushed adorably, waving Tori off with a promise to give her a call over the weekend.

“Anyways, where were we?” Darren asked once they were alone again. “Oh I know, it's your turn in the hot seat. I spilled my whole story so I now I want to know how you ended up being the big bad budget man...”

“Big bad budget man?” Chris chuckled. “Brilliant - I'll have to get that put on some business cards.”

Darren laughed so hard he almost spit out a mouthful of food.

“But no, I didn't grow up writing budgets and in love with numbers. I just kind of fell into this job and figured out I was good at it along the way, I guess,” Chris said, a bit more contemplatively. Unlike Darren, he couldn't say he was in the job he always dreamed of. Budgets weren't his passion and this wasn't how he'd imagined his life.

“You're being modest. How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?”

“I'm twenty-six, why?”

“Because you're three years younger than me and doing a job that most people wouldn't land until they were in their forties or fifties. So that would make you more than just good at what you do,” Darren pointed out.

“Or maybe it's just because it's not a job that a lot of people want to do?” Chris sighed.

“Well, I don't believe that for a second, But just for the sake of argument, let's say that's true. Then what's your true passion? How'd you end up a budget administrator?”

“You really want the whole story, huh?” Chris asked.

“I do – I just want to feel like I...know you a bit better,” Darren shrugged.

“Okay fine, I guess it's only fair,” Chris bit his lip, not sure where to begin. “Well as a kid, I guess books were my passion. I always stood out a bit and you know how cruel kids can be... So books became my kind of safe-haven? A world I could retreat into when everything else was hard. But I'd get frustrated sometimes when stories ended, especially when they didn't end the way I thought they should. So I started writing when I was eight years old. Then in high school, I had an amazing creative writing teacher who was so encouraging of my work and she really inspired me. So I decided to do what she did and become a teacher...”

“Why not be a writer?” Darren interrupted.

“I don't know... It's next to impossible to get anything published these day, and I never thought my stuff was good enough. I wanted a career with stability, as boring as that sounds.”

“That's not boring. It's smart. So you graduated college and then...?”

“Yeah, I started out at a small school, teaching high school English and Creative Writing. Then that school started having money problems, and I'd gotten close with the principal so I offered to see what I could do to help. And it turns out the money had been entirely mismanaged, bordering on criminal negligence really. So once we figured out the big issues, I was able to help get the school back on track. At that point, they asked me to take on a more administrative role so I split my time 50/50 with budgets and accounting and teaching for another year. Then there was a job opening up as district budget administrator and a few people from my school recommended me, so I decided I would at least interview for the job. I met the head people and I really liked them, and it was a lot more money and gave me the ability to travel and meet a lot of different people, like yourself obviously. Everyone told me I'd be an idiot not to take the job, but it was still a hard call to make, because it meant giving up teaching to do budget stuff full-time. At the end of the day, I decided that it was worth the risk and I said yes to the job offer and I've been here ever since.”

“Do you think you made the right decision?” Darren asked, blunt as ever.

“Wow, you weren't kidding about the wanting to get to know me thing, were you?” Chris chided. He was quiet for a moment, considering. “But yeah, I think I made the right call, I guess... Obviously I miss the teaching and day-to-day interactions with the kids, but I get to help more people this way, more schools. Or at least that's what I tell myself to sleep at night.”

Darren frowned. “Why do you say that?”

“I don't want to be seen as the empty, soulless bureaucrat, you know? When I go to a dinner party and people ask what I do and I say “I'm a school district budget administrator,” everyone's eyes glaze over and they just go ‘oh’ but what they really mean is ‘I'm sorry’.”

“I doubt that's the case,” Darren soothed Chris. “Besides, if they are actually thinking that, they're all idiots. What you do is incredibly important. You save schools. And I know that I haven't known you all that long, but you aren't soulless. Quite the opposite in fact.” Chris let out a slow breath and then another, shocked at how much Darren's simple affirmation meant to him.

“Do you still write?” Darren asked, surprising Chris.

Chris wasn’t sure how to answer. Writing was something that he tended to keep to himself. Part of the reason he lived like a hermit (as Ashley was so fond of pointing out) was because he devoted every spare moment that he wasn't working to writing. Evenings after work usually meant coffee and his laptop, his fingers flying across the keyboard until midnight or later. Weekends were even better, because Chris could devote whole days and nights to building his fantasy landscapes brick by brick. He'd just finished a manuscript for a children's book (that he secretly hoped would also have adult appeal) and it was easily the hardest thing he'd ever done. He was proud of finishing it, even if he doubted that he'd ever be brave enough to show it to another human being. Still, there was something about Darren's bluntness, his open book demeanor, that made Chris want to be equally honest with him.

“Yeah, I do. I really just do it for myself at this point, but I need the creative outlet, I guess,” Chris admitted shyly.

“What kind of stuff do you write? I'd love to read some of it.”

“Hmm? Oh, just fiction. Silly stuff, really,” Chris stuttered out.

“Short stories? Long form? Like what kind of topics?” Darren pressed.

“I just finished writing a children's book. It's...hard to describe.”

“Well, you better work on figuring out how to describe it. Gotta have a blurb to put on the back of the book cover for when you sell it, you know?” Darren said.

Chris shook his head. “I don't think that's going to be a problem. It's never going to get published, so...”

“Not with that attitude,” Darren interrupted. “Seriously though, I find it hard to believe that you could do anything that wasn't amazing, so don't sell yourself short, okay?”

Chris shrugged, his cheeks hot. He couldn't remember a time when he'd been complimented so often in one evening and it was making his head spin. He stared at the table, fidgeting with a napkin and trying to regain his breath.

“Chris,” Darren said quietly, reaching towards him. “Look at me,” he prompted and grabbed Chris' hand, stilling him. He waited patiently until Chris met his gaze, smiling encouragingly. “Promise me you won't keep your talent all bottled up? The world deserves to see what you can do.”

“I...” Chris felt his breath catch, lost in the intensity of Darren's determined stare. He wanted to brush it off, to make a joke about how the last thing the world needed was another failed writer. But seeing how sincere Darren was, he couldn't throw sarcasm back in his face. Still, Chris wasn't sure if he was brave enough to do what Darren was asking. Letting anyone read his work seemed terrifyingly impossible.

“I'll try,” he said at last. “It's just...not easy. Not for me, anyways.”

“I know it isn't,” Darren replied. “Trust me, I know. But good things usually don't come easily, do they?”

“I guess not,” Chris smiled.

Darren was the first to pull away this time, glancing at his watch as he released Chris’ hand. “It's getting late...” he said “Sorry, I didn't mean to take up so much of your time.”

“No, no, it's fine,” Chris soothed, feeling the smallest twinge of disappointment. “I had a great time. I'm glad we did this.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Did we get a check yet or do we pay up front?” Chris asked, rolling his sleeve back down over his bandaged elbow and trying to block out the phantom traces of Darren's hand against his skin. He wound his scarf around his neck and buttoned up his coat while Darren flagged down Tori, who told them that their meals were “on the house” with a wink.

“All bundled up?” Darren asked as he stood, gathering his guitar case and backpack.

“Yeah,” Chris nodded, following him out of the restaurant with a final wave and thank you to the staff. They stepped out into the night where a light snow was falling, blanketing the sidewalks. Thankfully, there was a taxi just down the street and Chris flagged it down almost immediately.

“Which way are you heading?” Chris asked. “Do you want to split a cab?”

“Nah, my apartment is just a few blocks from here. I'm going to walk.”

“Are you sure?” Chris pressed. “It's really cold.”

“Positive. I want to enjoy the snow a bit while I can. That's the San Francisco native in me, I guess. The cold weather hasn't gotten old yet.”

“I'm a bit less enthused about it. I'm klutzy enough without adding ice to the equation, as you saw earlier.” Chris laughed, remembering how embarrassed he'd been at the time.

“Yes, you should definitely get in the taxi before it's too late,” Darren chuckled.

Before Chris had a chance to overthink it, he leaned in for an impulsive hug. “Thanks for the hot chocolate,” he said. “See you tomorrow?”

“Can't wait... Goodnight.” Darren waited until Chris was safely inside the taxi, shutting the door for him with a final wave. Chris gave the driver his address and as they pulled out, he couldn't help but twist around to catch a glimpse of Darren's retreating form, his head to the sky as he watched the snowflakes softly fall.


	4. Right Side Up or Upside Down

Darren rose with the sun the next morning, feeling invigorated. He made a cup of coffee and sat on the couch, sipping it as he looked out the window at the blanket of pure white, newly fallen snow. From the looks of it, it had been falling most of the night. It might even be enough for a snow day.

Darren found the television remote buried between two cushions of the couch and flipped channels until he found a local news station. Sure enough, the bottom of the screen was scrolling with a list of school closures. He waited impatiently until they got to PS 21, pumping his fist in victory. Snow days weren't something he'd ever experienced growing up in San Francisco and he was only a little embarrassed to admit he turned into a six year old when school was cancelled. He rationalized it by telling himself that adults needed unexpected holidays from work too.

The timing couldn't have been better though, because what Darren needed to do more than anything was come up with a winning idea to save his choir: something that would help him raise $2,500 in less than two weeks. He stood, padding to the kitchen and throwing a few frozen waffles into the toaster before hunting down a pad of paper and a pen to jot down notes. Once he had his breakfast and notepad, he curled back up on the couch, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders like a cape to ward off the chill in his apartment.

Darren stared at the empty pad of paper for a solid ten minutes before he was ready to concede defeat. He was completely stymied, because most of the typical fundraisers wouldn't cut it  in this situation. There was simply no way that a bake sale, car wash, or raffle would earn enough money. Maybe in some communities it would, but Darren knew that most of the kids at his school lived just above the poverty line so their parents wouldn't have the disposable income to donate. More importantly, he wanted a fundraiser that involved music and the kids in his choir in some meaningful way, but he was fairly certain that it would be illegal to take thirty kids to busk outside the subway.

He was thoroughly stumped and the person he usually relied on in these situations was Chuck. Even when Chuck couldn't give Darren the answer, just bouncing out ideas off of him was usually enough to get his creative juices flowing. He glanced at the clock, noting that it was just after 7 am. He knew Chuck was touring, but he'd probably be up by now. Knowing that there was no time to waste, he picked up the phone and quickly dialed Chuck's number.

“Mhhmff, Darren?” Chuck mumbled into the phone after the fourth ring, sounding disoriented.

“Yeah Chuck, it's me,” Darren replied. “Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“It's 4 am,” Chuck said, sounding more awake now. “Of course you woke me up. Is everything okay?”

“Oh shit,” Darren winced. “Sorry, I thought you were on the east coast right now. But yeah, everything's fine. Go back to sleep.”

“Eh, I'm up now.” Darren could hear the rustling of sheets as Chuck sat up. “But no, I'm in LA at the moment. You don't usually call me at 7 am on a weekday though. Don't you have to work?”

“Snow day.”

“Ahh, I see. Lucky you...”

“Yeah, it was good timing, because I've got a lot to do and figure out. But seriously Chuck, we can talk about this later. You should sleep.”

“It's fine, Darren. We opened for a band yesterday, so I was back on the bus and asleep by 10 pm. And we don't go on until 9 tonight, so I can sleep more later if I need to. So tell me what's up...”

Darren sighed heavily, trying to decide where to begin. “Well long story short, our school is in trouble. They are way over budget, to the tune of about two million dollars.”

“Yikes,” Chuck winced. “They are that deep in the hole? Are they closing the school or...?”

“No, thankfully not. They had some budget specialist guy come in. He figured out that he could make up the deficit but cutting all after-school activities and cutting the schedule down to only one elective course per grade level.”

“So what does that mean for you?”

“Uhh, it would mean no more choir, among other things. It also means that I'd be teaching about half the classes I am now.”

Chuck was quiet for a moment, trying to take it all in. “Shit, I'm really sorry, Darren. That sucks.”

“It does, but you know me, 'never say die' and all that. I met with the budget guy, Chris. He's really cool actually, once you get to know him. But anyways, I convinced him to let me try to raise the money needed to fund the choir by myself. It's about $2,500 per nine week period, just to keep it going...” Darren trailed off. “That's where you come in.”

“You want me to sponsor your choir?” Chuck asked, sounding confused.

“No no, that's not what I meant at all,” Darren reassured. “I mean if I scraped together every spare penny I had or maybe took out a loan from Mom and Dad, I could probably come up with the money by myself. But it wouldn't matter, because Chris said it had to come from legitimate fundraising activities.”

“Ahh, I gotcha.”

“Yeah, I'm just stumped because a simple bake sale or car wash isn't going to cut it in this situation. I need something bigger, preferably something that involves music and the kids themselves.”

“You need a benefit concert,” Chuck said, as if the answer was obvious.

“A benefit? I don't know Chuck, we've done concerts before but admission was always free. Even when we left donation bucket at the front doors, we usually never earned more than $200,” Darren said, unsure.

“You'd have to come up with a way to market this concert and make it special to get people in the doors. Plus, you'd sell tickets for admission this time. Where do you typically give your concerts?”

“The school auditorium. It's got a big stage with risers and decent acoustics,” Darren answered.

“And how many people does it seat?” Chuck asked.

“About 250.”

“Perfect, so you sell tickets for $15 each and then you'd just need to sell - hang on a sec, it's too early for math, I'm going to use the calculator on my phone.” Darren chuckled, waiting patiently while Chuck did a quick calculation. “Okay, you'd need to sell 167 tickets to raise enough money. That's totally doable.”

“You think?” Darren questioned, feeling a surge of hope, because Chuck was right, this just might work. “My only concern is that the families in this area don't have a ton of extra money, so that might limit ticket sales...”

“Brooklyn's a big place though,” Chuck soothed. “Sure, some parts of your neighborhood are impoverished, but Williamsburg is just down the road and there are plenty of people there with money to burn. Plus, I'm sure the families of all the kids that are performing will come and assuming they each bring two people, that's what – 50 or 60 tickets sold right off the bat?”

“Yeah, about that,” Darren agreed, thinking hard. Chuck bringing up Williamsburg had sparked an idea. He hated to stereotype, but the area was frequented by people who liked to be in on emerging talent, especially anything related to the indie music scene. The kids already sang plenty of popular music, not just top 40 stuff you'd hear on the radio, but an eclectic mix that included plenty of indie bands. But still, selling the tickets would be a lot easier if they had some sort of special draw or maybe a special guest?

“Hey Chuck, just out of curiosity, when does your band's tour end?” Darren waited nervously, hoping that the timing would suit what he had in mind,

“We just have two more shows. We're playing tonight in Los Angeles and then tomorrow we fly back to New York for our final show at the Bowery on Sunday.”

“And how much time do you have off after that?” Darren continued.

“A couple of weeks. We're going to record some new tracks in a studio in Manhattan and Lucy's going to meet me here so we can make a vacation out of it.”

“That's perfect! Okay, so I think I have an idea about how to market this benefit concert, but I'm definitely going to need your help...”

* * *

Darren spent most of the three day weekend hard at work, trying to nail down all the details of the benefit concert so he'd be ready to present his plans to Chris on Monday. Chuck had been quick to agree that his band, Freelance Whales, would perform with kids in concert, giving Darren his first real 'name' to advertise. They made a list of other recognizable bands or solo artists that either of them had a personal connection with, and by Sunday they had a list of acts that agreed to be part of the benefit for free. Darren lined up his friends and fellow Michigan alums, Charlene Kaye and Theo Katzman and Chuck reached out to Kevin Ray, a friend of his, who talked his band, Walk the Moon, into appearing.

The hard part was figuring out the scheduling of the event, trying to balance the different availabilities of four different up-and-coming artists with Darren's looming deadline. In the end, he could only find one day when everyone's schedules aligned and naturally it was day thirteen of the two week period Chris had given for raising the money. It was risky, because if they didn't sell enough tickets to the show, there wouldn't be time to try something else to raise the remaining funds. His choir would sink or swim solely on how well the benefit concert did. Darren just hoped the school auditorium would be available that night for their venue.

Once he had the concert date and performers nailed down, it was time to start thinking about a setlist and song arrangements. He wanted the students to perform one song with each of the bands and then a closing number by themselves. That meant no fewer than five new songs to arrange and rehearse in a week, with only very limited rehearsal time with the bands. It was asking a lot of his kids and even more of himself, and Darren was exhausted just thinking about it.

To keep himself sane, Darren tried to make a list of everything that needed to be done in the upcoming days to keep himself on track. He wasn't the greatest at the small details, so he figured Chris would have plenty to add to his list. Chris' assistant Ashley emailed him as promised on Sunday and they set up a meeting for 3 pm the next day. Darren figured that the best demonstration he could give Chris would be to see what he was planning live, so he arranged to have Chuck and the band come to rehearse with the choir at 3:30.

Darren stayed up way too late that night putting together a short presentation to show Chris the basics of the benefit for his approval. He also rearranged “Hannah,” one of Freelance Whale's most popular songs, to make it suitable for his choir. Exhausted, he finally climbed into bed just after 1 am. But sleep didn't come easy that night, unfortunately. Darren tossed and turned, his mind buzzing with all the possible what-ifs. There was so much riding on him and so many different ways it could go wrong: the auditorium could be booked for the date they needed, one or more of the bands could back out, the advertising could fail and the turnout could suck, Chris could say no to his idea. The list was endless and Darren couldn't control the outcome. All he could do was wait and hope.

* * *

“Hey sweetie,” Ashley greeted Chris, shortly after 8 am. “Did you have a good weekend?”

“Hmm?” said Chris, looking up from his computer. “Oh, yeah it was pretty good. Relaxing. What about you?”

“Not bad – I spent most of it inside thanks to all the snow.” Ashley held up a mug. “Want me to grab you some coffee?” she offered.

“Already got some, so I'm all set, thanks. I've been here since 7 to get a jumpstart on all the emails and work I missed out on since they cancelled school Friday.”

“Okay, well, I'm very much in need of caffeine at the moment, so let me grab some for myself and then we can go over your schedule for the day. Sound good?”

“Yep, I'll be here,” Chris smiled. He continued to work through his inbox methodically while he hummed a tune that had been in his head since Thursday. He was so thoroughly engrossed in what he was doing that he was completely startled when Ashley spoke up suddenly.

“What's up with you?” she asked. “You're acting really weird.”

“Jesus, Ash, you scared me,” Chris admonished her. “How long have you been standing there watching me anyway?”

“About a minute...” she observed coolly.

“Uhh okay, that's not creepy at all. But anyways, weren't you and I going to go over my schedule for today?”

Ashley rolled her eyes, dropping the topic for the time being. She pulled out a large day-planner, taking a seat on the other side of Chris' desk. “So today's not too bad, for a Monday. You've got a ten o'clock meeting with building maintenance about some heating and cooling upgrades that need to be done ASAP and a lunch meeting with the board of education from twelve to two. Then at three, you're meeting with Darren Criss from the music department again...”

“Wait, what?” Chris perked up immediately, his cheeks flushing against his will. “When did that get scheduled?”

“I saw your email about needing to set up a progress report meeting this week so I emailed him over the weekend and he got back to me about it last night. Is that not okay?” Ashley asked, peering at him strangely.

“No, of course not,” he reassured her, “I appreciate you taking the initiative in doing that over the weekend.” He cleared his throat and rubbed at the side of his neck. “Were those all the meetings for today?”

“Yep,” Ashley replied, continuing to stare at Chris with a wry smirk. “Okay seriously Chris, what the heck is going on with you and that guy?”

“What?” Chris asked, trying to appear confused. “I don't know what you're trying to imply, but I'm just overseeing his fundraising project...”

“You're blushing and c'mon Chris, anyone with eyes can tell he's gorgeous. How'd your meeting on Thursday go?”

“Can you at least close the door first?” Chris sighed wearily. “I don't need everyone in a ten mile radius hearing us.”

Ashley quickly did as asked, sliding back into the chair and rubbing her hands together with excitement. “Okay, you're up. Tell me everything.”

“There's not a whole lot to tell, Ash. We had a second meeting which went a lot better than the last one, thank god. He prepared a presentation and I could tell he put a lot of effort into it, so I agreed to give him a little bit more time to try to raise the funds for his choir. There, happy now?”

“Nope, because you're not telling me the whole story. I think you have feelings for him. When I came in this morning, you were quite literally whistling while you worked and just a second ago you were humming some song. I haven't seen you in this good of a mood on a Monday in - I don't even know how long it's been, to be honest.” Ashley looked expectantly at Chris, who folded his arms across his chest and stared back at him defiantly. “Did you get some this weekend?” she whispered.

“Ash!” Chris sputtered. “Of course not! That would be incredibly unprofessional of me and totally against the rules.”

“I'll sit here all day if that's what it takes, Chris,” Ashley warned. “Spit it out.”

“Fine,” Chris huffed out at last, slumping forward to rest his head atop his arms on the desk. “He invited me out to dinner on Thursday as a thank you. It was totally innocent, but he's a nice guy and we talked and got to know each other a little better.”

“See, that wasn't so hard, was it?” Ashley gloated. “But can I just say how proud I am that you said yes and actually went out on a date with someone?”

“It wasn't a date. At least, that's what he said at the beginning of the night.” Chris was silent for a second, mentally deliberating. On the one hand, Ashley was his best friend and he desperately needed someone to confide in. His pseudo-date with Darren had stirred up feelings and he was both elated and terrified by how to proceed. But on the other hand, Ashley was very prone to gossip and he was pretty sure she'd tell him to fuck the rules and go for it. Chris just wasn't sure if that was something he was prepared to do.

“Okay Ash, if I tell you something, will you swear to keep it completely to yourself? And more importantly, I need you promise to only bring it up when we're alone, okay?” Chris asked tentatively.

“Of course, sweetheart, I'll take it to my grave if that's what you want,” she reassured.

“Well, like I said he invited me to dinner and walked to this cute little cafe a few blocks away. Apparently he's a regular there and he plays open mics and fills in when they have a band back out at the last minute or whatever. So of course, klutz that I am, I slipped on the ice outside and banged up my knee and elbow pretty badly. He scooped me up and helped me inside and basically played nursemaid to me. He insisted on being the one to clean up my elbow and put a bandaid on it and there was this weird moment where he was kind of holding my hand and really close to me and I thought he might kiss me?”

“Whoa...” Ashley said, eyes wide.

“Right? There was definitely tension and I don't know how to describe it except that there were sparks. But then we were interrupted by the waitress coming over to take our order. She ended up being someone who knew Darren pretty well and she talked him into playing a song. He went up there and dedicated the song to me like it was no big deal. He sang the entire song to me and it was just...wow. And this is all before we even got our food.”

“Chris, he's _so_ into you. He's got to be,” Ashley reassured him. “No one would go to all that trouble unless they were.”

“I'm not sure,” Chris said, shaking his head. “It's complicated. He was a total jackass the first two times we met, so he might just be trying to suck up to me or use me or-”

“Chris, c'mon you can't honestly believe that,” Ashley interrupted. “You're a catch. I'm sure he's crazy about you.”

“I don't know that I'm a catch, compared to him,” Chris mumbled, still unsure. He looked up at Ashley, shaking his head as if to clear the thought from his mind. “It doesn't matter, because even if we were both interested, it's against the rules to get involved while I'm still overseeing things here.”

“Hon, people break that rule every day. Even if you aren't willing to go there, you'll be out of this school and onto the next in a month. I'm not trying to push, I just want what's best for you. You know that, right?” Ashley asked.

“I know, Ash. I know.”

“He makes you happy. That's obvious, she said, smiling. “So I just want you to do one thing for me. You're going to see him this afternoon and probably a lot in the next week or two while you work on this project. So just keep one idea in the back of your head. Ask yourself: is he worth it? And if he is, you have to go for it, consequences be damned, okay?”

Chris nodded solemnly, considering what Ashley had said. It was a simple question, but it also felt huge and he knew it was all he'd be able to think about all week long.

* * *

“Hey,” Darren greeted Chris warmly that afternoon, face lighting up the second he entered the room. “It's good to see you,” he continued, pulling Chris in for a hug without a second thought.

Chris allowed himself to be led into Darren's arms for a long, lingering hug, his face heating up as Darren squeezed him tightly. “You too,” Chris managed once they parted. “Did you have a good weekend?”

“Busy – I spent most of the weekend coming up with the fundraising idea I'm about to present to you. I really hope you like it, because I'm afraid I don't have a Plan B this time,” he chuckled nervously.

“I'm sure it will be great,” Chris reassured. “Where do you want me to sit?”

“Oh, anywhere in that front row is good,” Darren replied. “Okay, so I spent a lot of time thinking through various approaches. I had to rule out typical fundraising activities like a bake sale or car wash or raffle, because they were unlikely to earn the amount of money we need. I also thought it was important to have the kids directly involved in some way. So what I came up with was a benefit concert...” Darren paused for a moment, giving a Chris a chance to weigh in.

“Have you held choir concerts or recitals before?” Chris asked.

“Yeah, but those were usually just for the kids' parents or the school and not designed to raise money. We've never charged admission before.”

“Gotcha,” Chris nodded. “Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt, please continue.”

“Well, I had some of the same questions you had: namely how are we going to get people in the door and convince them to buy tickets. I wanted to come up with something that would make it worth the community's while. So that's when I came up with idea of inviting some special guests to perform with the kids.”

Chris looked up from where he'd been scribbling notes. “What kind of special guests? Do you have any potential guests in mind?”  
“Even better,” Darren smiled proudly. “I've already gotten four groups to tentatively agree to perform, assuming you can accommodate me on the date. But I'm getting ahead of myself – let me back up. I started by calling my brother, who's in an indie band called Freelance Whales. Have you ever heard of them?”

“I don't think so,” Chris admitted. “Sorry, I'm more of a top 40/whatever's playing on Pandora kind of guy.”

“No worries,” Darren reassured, “they're what I'd probably call an up-and-coming band, but they're really good. And more importantly, I think they'll sell, especially in areas like Williamsburg where people are...”

“...hipsters?” Chris finished for Darren.

“I was going to say 'into the indie music scene' but yes, that works too,” Darren laughed.

“You said you had 4 special guests?”

“Yep, the other three are Walk the Moon and two solo artists I know from college: Charlene Kaye and Theo Katzman.”

“Oh, Walk the Moon? I'm pretty sure I've heard of them!” Chris exclaimed. “They sing that song – oh crap, I can't think of the name, but...” Chris hummed the chorus, slightly embarrassed.

“Yeah, that's them.” _When you are close to me, I shiver_ , Darren sang in a falsetto, and it took every bit of willpower Chris possessed to keep from doing exactly that.

Darren held his gaze for a long moment, reigniting the flutters in his stomach that had stubbornly persisted since Ashley told him he'd be meeting with Darren today. Chris looked away at last, trailing his fingers across his neck and collarbone as he often did when he was nervous, missing Darren's hungry look as he tracked his hand's movement.

“So you have a date in mind?” Chris asked, changing the subject to get them back on solid ground. Together they quickly confirmed that the school auditorium would be available for the date Darren needed, meaning the benefit concert could go forward. From there they moved on to the marketing strategies and Chris was impressed to see that Darren had already mocked up flyers for his approval. He'd thought of everything, it appeared, and Chris couldn't help but feel a swell of pride for Darren. Against all odds, Chris was starting to believe that he might pull it off and raise the money just in the nick of time.

“So I have one final surprise for you,” Darren announced, just as their planning was drawing to a close.

“Oh yeah?” Chris grinned. “And just what might that be?”

“Well, I wasn't banking on you being so sold on my fundraising approach from the start - thanks for that again, by the way – so I thought a little audio/visual presentation might help convince you. That's why my brother's band will be here in 5 minutes to rehearse with the kids who are spying on us as we speak,” Darren said, gesturing to the door, where several kids were peeking through the glass and watching them intently.

“Wow,” Chris said, momentarily rendered speechless. “How long have they been watching us?”

“About five minutes...”

“Of course they have,” Chris giggled nervously, somehow feeling caught out, even though he'd only been having an entirely innocent chat with Darren.

“So what do you say – do you have a few minutes to stay and watch us rehearse?” Darren asked, looking hopeful.

“It's a sweet offer, Darren, but you've already convinced me of your plan. I'm all in. And I wouldn't want to intrude...”

“You wouldn't be intruding at all, Chris. I want you here, truly,” Darren soothed. “Besides, I'd love for you to meet my brother.”

Chris took a moment to register Darren's request. _He wanted Chris to meet his brother?_ It was a lot to process, especially when Darren was peering at him with that pleading, puppy-eyed expression he wore so well. Chris thought back to his earlier conversation with Ashley and the words he'd promised to keep in the back of his mind. _Was Darren worth it?_

“Okay sure, I guess I can stay and watch for a few minutes,” Chris said at last, his heart galloping in his chest as Darren beamed back at him.

“Awesome! Okay, how about you pull up a chair, up here by me,” Darren directed, pointing to a spot near his piano, “while I go let the kids in and find Chuck and the rest of the band.”

Chris nodded, doing as told and dragging a stool over to the corner near the piano. He sat down, his leg bouncing up and down nervously as a flood of kids entered the room, chattering excitedly with one another. Darren disappeared for a short while and Chris took the opportunity to straighten his tie and smooth down his hair, cursing Ashley for not letting him know ahead of time that he'd be meeting with Darren today so he could have picked a more suitable outfit.

While Chris was waiting, two small girls made their way up to him nervously, each clutching a piece of colored construction paper. “Mr. Chris?” the blonde girl said.

“That's me,” he said, smiling encouragingly at them.

“Um, Mr. C said we should be really nice to you because you helped our choir?” she squeaked. “So Emma and I made these for you in art class,” she managed, extending a homemade card.

“Oh my goodness!” Chris exclaimed. “That's so sweet of you. What's your name, honey?”

“Alexis,” she answered, smiling shyly.

“Well Alexis, I just love your card,” Chris said, opening it up to admire the flower drawings inside.

“I made one too!” Emma announced, thrusting her card into Chris' hand.

“It's beautiful,” Chris cooed. “Thank you so much.” Before he knew what was happening, Emma had thrown her arms around his neck, enveloping him in a hug. After a second's pause, he hugged back, eyes prickling with tears as he looked up to see that a queue had formed behind Emma, with most of the choir clutching cards or other small tokens of appreciation. He swallowed down the lump in his throat, turning his head to see Darren standing with a slightly shorter boy who looked an awful lot like him. They were both smiling at him approvingly. As Chris refocused his attention on the next student in line, eager to share his card, he could just make out Darren's conversation.

“Is that him?” Chuck asked.

“Yeah, that's him. That's Chris,” Darren answered, beaming.

* * *

“Okay guys, let's settle down!” Darren shouted. About half of the students refocused their attention on Darren, the rest still engrossed in checking out the instruments of the band members interspersed throughout the choir. Darren rolled his eyes fondly, exchanging a look with his brother.

“Hey Chuck, help me out please?” he requested, smiling gratefully as Chuck played three notes on the glockenspiel, causing the remaining students to snap to attention.

“Thank you!” he said. “Alright boys and girls, please help me give a warm P.S. 21 welcome to our special guests Freelance Whales and Mr. Colfer!” The children immediately broke into cheers and applause.

“Okay, we've only got an hour today to rehearse with the band, so let's make the most of it,” he said. “Also just a heads up that we just learned the song in class today, so bear with us while we work out the rough spots.”

“Everyone ready?” Darren asked one final time. “Okay Chuck, start us off then.” He angled his piano bench just enough so that he could watch the wonder on his students' faces as Chuck began to play the [opening notes to 'Hannah,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5qXFuudyVCA)' one of Darren's favorite songs off their first album. One by one, the other four bandmates began to join in, until it was Darren's turn to play a simple set of chords on the piano.

He stood up, showing the choir where to come in, sighing a little under his breath as they began to sing perfectly in tune. They'd come such a long way over the course of the semester and it blew his mind that they were able to pick up new music so quickly now.

_Do me this solid_   
_If you would pretty lady_   
_Please grab your martini_   
_And meet me on the balcony_   
_I've prepared a light show_   
_You could fake a melody_   
_We could argue over where and when_   
_The cymbal hits should be_

Darren sang along with the choir happily, grinning when he glanced in Chris' direction and noticed that even he was grooving, bopping his head in time with the music.

_Hannah takes the stairs_   
_And I usually take the elevator_   
_Every now and then she offers me_   
_A lemon Now-and-Later_   
_Please don't play the matchmaker_   
_Please don't be a player hater_   
_If you dig her recent work_   
_Then you should go congratulate her_

The kids really hit its stride as they began to sing the chorus. Darren looked out at the audience, watching as they began to mime the lyrics as they sang. Chuck was dancing in his seat as he played along, swaying back and forth with the two boys seated on either side of him. He glanced up at Darren and they exchanged a smile. Darren knew exactly what Chuck was thinking though, that the kids' energy and joy were infectious (which was totally true). It was by far his favorite job perk.

_And if you're partial to the night sky_   
_If you're vaguely attracted to rooftops_   
_Hannah takes the stairs_   
_Cause she can't tell_   
_That it's a winding spiral case_   
_Is she right side up_   
_Or upside-down?_

Darren turned his focus back to the piano, jamming out with the band for a little musical interlude, leading into the second verse. The kids knew exactly where to come in this time, making Darren grateful their frantic rehearsal earlier today had paid off.

_So Hannah let your roots grow_   
_Let your blue veins show_   
_If I need to take a breath_   
_Then you can take a trumpet solo_   
_I'll work on the limbs if_   
_You work on the torso and_   
_If it gets to be too much_   
_Then you can lend a helping hand_

_And if you're partial to the night sky_   
_If you're vaguely attracted to rooftops_   
_Hannah takes the stairs_   
_Cause she can't tell_   
_That it's a winding spiral case_   
_Is she right side up_   
_Or upside-down?_

They repeated the chorus one last time, slowing down the tempo just slightly at the end. Darren did his best to direct with his body as he continued to pound the piano keys. He said a mental prayer, hoping that he didn't look as ridiculous as he felt, more than a little self-conscious knowing that Chris was sitting a few feet away (although hopefully not watching him).

_And if you're partial to the night sky_   
_If you're vaguely attracted to rooftops_   
_Hannah takes the stairs_   
_Cause she can't tell_   
_That it's a winding spiral case_   
_Is she right side up_   
_Or upside-down?_

“That was killer!” Darren shouted as the final notes died down, grinning widely as the choir room erupted in cheers.

“Not bad for a first run through,” Judah complimented the students sitting in his row, exchanging high fives.

Darren looked out into the audience, mouthing a thank you to Chuck, who had his arms slung around the boys sitting nearest him, letting them take turns at hitting the glockenspiel keys.

He was startled by a warm hand on his shoulder. “Hey,” Chris whispered. “I need to take off now, but I just wanted to tell you that the song was amazing. You've got something magical happening here...”

“I know, right?” Darren echoed, voice full of wonder. “I didn't expect things to turn out that well on our first run-through.”

“Keep up the good work, okay?” Chris encouraged, squeezing Darren's shoulder, hand lingering. “And might I make one suggestion?”

“Yeah, of course – be my guest.”

“You should film one of the run-throughs on your phone and post it on YouTube. It'll be the best free marketing you could possibly get. Just make sure you get permission from all the kids' parents before you post it online.”

“That's a great idea,” Darren gushed. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure,” Chris smiled, seeming reluctant to leave. “Okay, I guess I better go,” he sighed.

“See you soon?” Darren asked hopefully.

"Can't wait."


	5. And I'll Never Desert You

The next week flew by in a blur. Darren devoted every spare moment that he wasn’t teaching to making sure that the benefit was a success. There was so much to do and so little time to do it. Thankfully, it was a team effort and many people pitched in. One of his students’ parent offered to make new t-shirts for the choir, another printed the programs for free at his office, and many parents purchased extra tickets to sell to their friends and coworkers. Together, Chris and Darren determined that they needed to sell 167 tickets to raise enough money to keep the choir operational. They’d done everything they could to make the concert a success, now all they could do was wait and hope.

Even in all the excitement and chaos, Chris found plenty of excuses to spend time with Darren. They’d had a “working lunch” intended to discuss marketing efforts, though they spent half of it giggling and bantering back and forth instead. One night when they were both working late, Darren had surprised him by ordering Thai food and hosting an impromptu picnic on the floor of the choir room. By the end of the night, Chris’ cheeks hurt from smiling so much and he honestly couldn’t remember a time he’d felt so alive. His previous relationships had often been defined by doubts and fears, but with Darren, all those anxieties seemed to melt away. Even when Chris knew how much he stood to lose professionally if he were caught engaging in a relationship with a supervisee, he found himself thinking (fantasizing, really) about a future with Darren. The revelation that losing his job didn’t frighten him as much as losing Darren shocked Chris to his core, but it also made things so simple.

Chris dressed with great care the night of the benefit, wanting to look his best for Darren. He arrived an hour early, just in time to catch the end of the choir’s final run-through. Darren looked incredibly handsome standing up on that stage in a suit and tie, and that’s when Chris just knew. Darren was worth it to him, no matter what the cost. He’d fight for this relationship, even if it meant sacrifices. He just hoped that Darren would feel the same.

Chris took some time to handle his work duties, checking in with everyone who was working at the event. He took his time to make sure everything was running smoothly (it was) and saved backstage for last. He knew Darren would be there rehearsing with the kids, and he found himself suddenly nervous to see him, as if Darren would somehow take one look at his face and somehow just know that Chris wanted a relationship with him.

He decided to stop by the ticket booth one last time before going to see Darren. Even as he walked through the auditorium, he could tell that the news was good, seeing how over half the seats were filled when there were still thirty minutes until curtain call.

“How are we doing?” Chris asked the three mothers selling tickets for the event.

“I’m pretty sure we’re going to sell out!” Mrs. Jacobson exclaimed. “We’re down to only fifty tickets.”

“Each or only fifty total left?”

“Fifty total,” Jaime’s mom clarified. “We’ve sold two hundred between the presales and tickets sold at the door so far.”

“That’s amazing,” Chris gushed, heart practically leaping out of his chest. They’d done it - Darren had done it.

“Is it enough?” Mrs. Grayson asked. “Will they be able to keep the choir going? Brianne will just be devastated if they have to cancel it…”

“It’s more than enough,” Chris beamed with pride. “I’m going to let the kids know. Keep up the great work!”

Chris hurried backstage as quickly as possible. The kids were sitting in a circle in one of the wings backstage, chattering quietly, with Darren nowhere to be found.

“Hey guys,” he said, approaching the choir. “Before you go out there, I just wanted to say good luck and break a leg out there tonight.”

“Thanks Mr. Chris,” several kids replied in unison.

“Does anyone happen to know where Mr. C is?” he asked.

“He’s on the other side of the stage talking to Brianne,” David answered.

“Great, thanks.” Chris waved as he went off in search of Darren.

He made his way to the left wing of the stage, struggling to see in the dim light. He heard Darren before he could see him, speaking in a low soothing voice. Chris hung back in the folds of the curtain, not wanting to interrupt what was clearly a private moment. While he waited, he nervously fingered the small gift box and card in his pocket. Chris had never been one for big romantic gestures, but he desperately wanted this to work. He just hoped that it would be enough, that _he_ would be enough for Darren.

Darren was on his knees to be at eye level with a student, stroking her arm comfortingly while he spoke. The young girl was red-eyed and her lip was trembling as she fought not to cry.

“Don't be nervous, Bri. You are going to knock it out of the park, okay? Just like you always do,” Darren encouraged.

“But what - if I - mess it up,” she managed, breath hitching. “If I do a bad - job then they - might cancel the - choir and it’ll - be all my fault.”

“Hey, hey no, look at me, Bri. That’s not going to happen, okay? I promise. You are going to be perfect, but even if you make a mistake, that’s not going to change what happens to the choir,” Darren reassured.

“You swear?” she sniffled.

“Pinky swear,” Darren replied, holding out his hand to Brianne.

Chris decided there was no time like the present to give Darren the good news, especially when he knew it would help give Brianne and all the students the confidence they needed to do their best. He made his way over to Darren, a bright smile on his face. “Hey guys, I didn’t want to interrupt, but I’ve got some great news.”

“Really?” Darren asked, eyes wide and hopeful. “Do tell.”

“Well, I just checked in with the box office and we’ve already sold two hundred tickets!”

Darren’s jaw dropped, momentarily speechless. “Seriously? We did it?”

Chris nodded, eyes bright. “We did it. _You_ did it.” Before he had time to react, Darren flung himself into his arms.

Darren nuzzled his face into Chris’ neck. “No, _we_ did it,” he whispered. Chris just squeezed him tighter, heart racing at the word ‘we’ and the things he hoped it implied.

They pulled apart at last, both giddy. Darren sobered slightly as he looked down at Brianne, suddenly remembering they had an audience.

“I - I have something for you,” Chris forced himself to say, before he could lose his nerve.

“Yeah?” Darren looked intrigued. “Hey Bri, do you want to be the one to go tell the rest of the choir our good news?” he asked, wanting a moment alone with Chris.

“Can I?” she said excitedly, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “What do I say?”

“Just tell them that we sold enough tickets to save the choir,” Darren directed. “And then tell everyone that they should start warming up because we go on stage in,” he paused to look down at his watch, “about 15 minutes.”

Brianne went flying off to the other side of stage without another word, leaving the two of them blessedly alone. “I still can’t believe this…” Darren said, awed.

“Well, you better start believing. You’re amazing, Darren. You can do anything you set your mind to.” Darren and Chris were both startled by the sounds of loud whoops and cheers coming from the other side of the stage. “I guess they’re pretty pumped too,” Darren chuckled.

“They should be. They earned it.” Chris took a deep breath and pulled the gift box and card from his pocket, knowing it was now or never. “So I got something for you…”

“Chris, you didn’t need to do that.”

“I wanted to. It’s nothing big, just a little good luck token,” he said, handing the box to Darren. “Open that first, then the card.”

“Isn’t that backwards from how it’s usually done?” Darren teased as he worked the ribbon holding the box together loose.

“You know me - ever the innovator,” Chris giggled.

The ribbon slid free of the box and Darren eased it open. He let out a quiet gasp as he saw the small platinum pin nestled in cotton inside. It was shaped like a treble clef and studded with tiny gemstones in blue and red, the school colors. “Chris, it’s beautiful,” Darren spoke in a hushed whisper.

“Do you like it?” Chris couldn’t help but ask. “I thought it might be nice to have a good luck charm to take with you on stage, not that you guys are really going to need one.

“No, I love it. Seriously Chris, it’s perfect.” He carefully removed it from the box, looking down at his suit lapel and trying to decide where to place it.

“Here, let me,” Chris offered, taking the pin from his hand. He carefully removed the backing from the pin and placed it just over Darren’s heart. Once he was sure it was in the right spot, he replaced the backing, making sure it was secure. Chris straightened Darren’s tie and smoothed down Darren’s lapels, reveling at the feel of Darren’s warmth and solidity beneath his hands. He took a step back and admired him for a second before nodding, finally satisfied. “There, perfect.”

Darren smiled shyly at Chris. “And now the card?” he asked.

“Yeah, open it,” Chris breathed, more nervous about how Darren would respond to it than he did to the gift.

Darren tore open the envelope eagerly, finding a card and folded piece of paper inside. Chris directed him to look at the card first.

“Dear Darren,” he began to read aloud. “I want to give you my sincerest gratitude for working as hard as you have for not only your students, but this whole school as well. You are a model of what I want all the teachers here to strive for: loyal, hard-working, tenacious, fearless, and innovative. I’ve treasured the time we spent working together, as it has been the highlight of my time at P.S. 21 and one of the best experiences I’ve had at any school so far. You’ve been an inspiration, not just to your students, but to me as well. You’ve showed me that there are some things worth fighting for, no matter what the cost. I’ve included something in this card to show you just how much you’ve inspired me. I hope that this will just be the first of many steps towards going after my dreams, and I have you to thank for that.” Darren looked up at Chris, eyes shining as he read the signature. “Love, Chris,” he finished at last, eyes wide.  
“Okay, open the piece of paper now,” Chris encouraged.

Darren took a deep shuddering breath as he carefully unfolded the paper. Chris noticed his hands were shaking as he did so. “Dear Mr. Colfer, thank you for your submission of the manuscript titled 'The Land of Stories.’ Little, Brown Young Reader prides itself on discovering new and emerging talent. However, due to the high volume of submissions we receive, we are not able to provide individual feedback and critiques. We will notify you in the next four to six weeks if we choose to share your manuscript with the senior editors for further review.”

“That’s your book? The Land of Stories?” Darren gasped.

“Yeah,” Chris nodded, heart pounding.

“Chris, that’s amazing!” Darren gushed. “I’m so proud of you.” He reached out, pulling Chris in for a tight hug.

Neither seemed to want to part, and they stood for a long moment, simply gazing at each other. Every fiber in Chris’ brain was screaming to kiss Darren, but he still wasn’t sure if he could, if Darren felt the same way. Then Chris tracked Darren’s gaze as it fell to his lips and he nodded, almost imperceptibly. Before he could register what was happening, Darren tugged him in for a long lingering kiss. Chris melted into it, running his fingers through Darren’s curls and holding on for dear life. They broke away at last, both blushing and giddy.

“I’m sorry,” Darren stammered. “I just really wanted to kiss you and I wasn’t sure if you - if we should or-”

“Shh, Darren,” Chris interrupted. “It’s okay. I wanted that as much as you did…”

“You did?” Darren managed, his eyes wide.

“Of course I did,” Chris soothed, reaching out to stroke Darren’s cheek for a second. “There are rules, obviously, since I’m your supervisor. But you earned this money all on your own, so there’s no conflict of interest there, and I’ll be moving onto a new school soon enough. Plus, I just couldn’t wait any longer…”

Darren’s eyes went dark and he tugged Chris to him possessively for a kiss that was even more assured and fiery. Chris felt his knees almost give out and he reluctantly pulled away, gulping oxygen. “I could do this all night,” he murmured, voice low, “but unfortunately you’ve got a show to do.”

“I know, I know,” Darren sighed. “Rain check?”

“It’s a date,” Chris smiled. “Good luck,” he said, pressing a kiss to Darren’s forehead, before turning to leave.

“Wait hang on,” Darren said, grabbing Chris’ hand. “Let me…” he continued, straightening Chris’ tie. “You’re kinda a mess now.”

“And whose fault is that?” Chris giggled, allowing Darren to fix his shirt and coat before turning to him to do the same. “There, all better,” he said at last, smoothing down Darren’s hair.

“Okay, break a leg,” Chris said, squeezing his hand before hurrying out front to prepare for the beginning of the show.

* * *

 

Chris joined the audience in rapturous applause as the final notes of “Tightrope” died down. The audience continued to cheer as Darren gestured to the members of Walk the Moon, who took a bow. There was quiet for a moment as the band members left the stage and Chris glanced down at the program in his lap. According to it, all that was left were the dedications and final song.” Chris breathed a great sigh of relief, marveling at how smoothly the whole night had gone. The children had been _amazing_ as had the special guests. The sold-out audience had eaten it up and Chris could already tell that Darren had hit on something special. He could imagine many similar concerts in the P.S. 21 choir’s future and he doubted that Darren’s choir would ever be on the brink of financial ruin again.

Chris looked back to the stage, heart swelling with pride at how handsome and comfortable Darren looked up there. It still hadn’t sunk in that Darren was his, that someone so amazing and talented had chosen to share his life with Chris.

Darren turned from the music stand to face the audience, holding a microphone. “I just wanted to take a moment to say one final thank you to all our special guests tonight. Let’s give one final round of applause to Freelance Whales, Theo Katzman, Charlene Kaye, and Walk the Moon. Weren’t they amazing?” he asked the crowd, who cheered and clapped harder in response.

“The kids and I also wanted to give our sincere gratitude to all of you in the audience for coming out tonight. You can probably tell that we have a sold out show, which means you’ve helped us raise enough money to keep our choir going for the next few months!” Darren announced. “So you deserve a round of applause as well,” Darren said as his students begin to clap and cheer.

“And finally, if you look at your program, you’ll notice that we’ve only got one last song for you tonight. We wanted to dedicate this song to a very special person out in the audience without which tonight would not be possible.” In the audience, Chris froze, unsure.

Darren smiled, looking out into the audience until his eyes found Chris. “So tonight’s song is dedicated to Chris Colfer, the budgeting specialist who agreed to let us give this unconventional fundraising strategy a try. Chris, stand up,” he urged.

Chris slowly rose to his feet, cheeks flaming, the crowd’s roaring applause echoing all around him. He managed a quick wave and a nervous smile before sitting back down again on wobbly legs.

“So tonight’s final song is dedicated to Chris, for standing by this choir when no one else would. Chris, it’s because of you that these kids and I get to continue to do what we love, which is make music. So we thank you from the bottoms of our hearts. This one’s for you.” Darren turned to face the choir, signaling the pianist who began to play the opening notes of a [familiar song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XQ65FvokArM).

_Oh, why you look so sad?_   
_Tears are in your eyes_   
_Come on and come to me now_   
_Don't be ashamed to cry_   
_Let me see you through_   
_'Cause I've seen the dark side too_

A lump caught in Chris’ throat as he realized what song they were singing. He looked at the children up on the stage, singing their hearts out. He watched Darren conducting the choir, throwing his whole body into the music, feeling so incredibly _grateful_ for Darren and what they'd found together.

_When the night falls on you_   
_You don't know what to do_   
_Nothin' you confess, could make me love you less_   
_I'll stand by you, I'll stand by you_   
_Won't let nobody hurt you_   
_I'll stand by you_

Chris sat in rapt silence for the rest of the song, scarcely noticing the tears that rolled down his cheeks, utterly swept away by the performance. It was personal, knowing that the song was dedicated to him, and he was savoring each word. But it was the final lyrics that meant the most to him.

_Take me in, into your darkest hour_   
_And I'll never desert you_   
_I'll stand by you_

It was a promise that Darren intended to keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's all she wrote, at least for now. I've spent months working on this fic and it would make my week if you'd take a moment to leave a comment and let me know what you think. I've really enjoyed this particular AU and I'm strongly considering making it a 'verse. If you are interested in reading more, feel free to drop a prompt in my ask: lovetheblazer.tumblr.com/ask
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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